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OB,   THB 





The  Pope  of  Rome,  The  Young  Actress,  The  Poor  of  New  York,  The  Dublin 

Boy,  Pauvrette,  Life  of  an  Actress,  Jessie  Brown,  The 

Octoroon,   Azael,   Blue    Belle, 

Dot,  &c. 



Original  Oitst,  at  Miss  Laura  Keene's  Theater ^  New  Tork^  March  27 th^  1860. 


Myles  na  Coppaleen r>Ir.  Dion  Boucicault. 

Hakdresj  Cregan ?lr.  IL  F.  Daly. 

Danxy  Mann ^Ir.  Charles  Wheatleigh. 

Kyrle  Daly Mr.  Charles  Fisher. 

Father  Tom Mr.  D.  W.  Leeson. 

Mr.  Corrigan * Mr.  J.  G.  Burnett. 

Bertie  O'Moore Mr.  Henry. 

Hyland  Creagh Mr.  Lcvick. 

Servant Mr.  Goodrich. 

Corporal .  ]\Ir.  Clarke. 

EiLY  O'Connor .  Miss  Agnes  Robertson. 

Anne  Chute .Miss  Laura  Kecne. 

Mrs.  Cregan Madam  Ponisi. 

Sheelah ?.Iis3  Mary  Wells. 

Kathleen  Creagii .  Miss  Josephine  Henry, 

DuciE  Blennerhasset Miss  Hamilton. 

COSTUMES.— Period,  179—. 

Hardress. — Green  broad -skirted  body  coat  of  the  tinw; ;  double- 
breasted  light  bilk  waistcoat,  leather  pintaloon*?,  top  boots,  hair  rather 
long,   steeple-crowned   gold-laccd   hat,    and   white  muslin  cravat. 

27id  Vres^:  Blue  body  coat,  white  waistcoat,  white  kerseymere 
breeches,  silk  stockings,  and  shoes. 

Daly. — Brown  coat,  etc.,  same  fashion  as  above.  2nd  Dress:  Full 

Creagh,  O'Moore,  and  Gentlejien. — Evening  dress. 

Father  Tom. — Broad-brimmed,  low-crowned  hat,  faded  black  suit, 
black  riding  boots,  and  white  cravat. 

Danny.  [A  hunchback.]  Blue  fiiezti  jacket,  corduroy  brei'ches,  yellow 
waistcoat,  gray  stockings,  shoes  and  buckles,  and  old  seal-skin  cap. 
.     Myles. — Drab  great  coat,  with  cape,  red  cloth  waistcoat-,  old  vel« 
'veteen  breeches,  darned  gray  stockings,  and  shoes. 

Corrigan. — Black  suit,  top  boots,  and  brown  wig. 

Mr3.  Cregan. — Puce  sjlk  dress  of  the  time,  white  muslin  neckerchief 
and  powdered  hair.  2nd  Dress  :  Handsome  embroidered  silk  dress, 
jewels  and  fan. 

Anne. —Gold-laced  riding  babit,  hat  an:^vaiJ.  2nd  Dress:  White 
embroidered  muslin  dress,  and  colored  sash. 

EiLY. — Blue  merino  potiicuat,  chintz  tuck-up  body  and  skirfci,  short 
sleeves,  blue  stockings,  hair  plain,  with  neat  comb,  red  cloak,  and 






ACT  I. 

SCENE  I. — [Night] — Tore  Cregan,  the  Residence  of  Mrs.  Oregan,  cm 
the  Banks  of  Killamey.  House,  l.  2  e.  ;  window  facing  Audience — light 
behind — light  to  work  in  drop  at  hack.  Stage  open  at  hack.  Music — seven 
hars  hefore  curtain. 

Enter  Hardress  Cregan,  from  house^  L. 
Hard    [Going  up  c]  Hist  !  Danny,  are  you  there  ? 
Danny  appearing  from  heloWj  at  hack, 

Danny   Is  it  yourself,  Masther  Hardress  ? 

Sard  Is  the  boat  ready  ? 

Danny   Snuoc  under  the  blue  rock,  sir. 

Bard   Does  Eily  expect  me  to-night  ? 

Danny  Expictisit?  Here  is  a  lether  she  bade  me  gWe  yez  ;  sure 
the  young  thing  is  never  aisy  when  you  are  away.  Look,  masther, 
dear,  do  ye  see  that  light,  no  bigger  than  a  star  beyant  on  Muckross 

Hard  Yes,  it  is  the  signal  which  my  dear  Eily  leaves  burning  in 
our  chamber. 

Danny  All  night  long  she  sits  beside  that  light,  wid  her  face  fixed 
on  that  lamp  in  your  wimiy  above. 

Hard  Dear,  dear  Eily  !  after  all  here's  asleep,  I  will  leap  from  my 
window,  and  we'll  cross  the  lake. 

Danny  [Searching.]  Where  did  I  put  that  lether? 

Enter  Kyrle  Daly  from  house,  h* 

Kyrle  [l.]  Hardress,  who  is  that  with  you  ? 

Hird  [c]  Only  Mann,  my  boatman. 

Kj/rle  That  fellow  is  like  your  shadow. 

Danny  [r.]  Is  it  a  cripple  like  me,  that  wouW  be  the  shadow  of 
an  illegant  gintleman  like  Mr.  Hardress  Cregan  ? 

Kyrle    [l.]  Well,  I  mean  that  he  never  leaves  your  side. 

Hard  [c]  And  he  never  shati  leave  me.  Ten  years  ago  he  was  a 
fine  boy — we  were  foster-brothers,  and  playmates — in  a  moment  of 
passion,  while  we  were  struggling,  I  flung  him  from  the  gap  rock  into 
the  reeks  below,  and  thu^  he  was  maimed  for  life. 



Danny  Arrah  !  whist  aroon  !  wouldn't  1  die  for  yez  ?  didn't  the 
same  mother  foster  us?  Why,  wouldn't  ye  break  my  back  if  it  plazed 
ye,  and  welkim !  Oh,  Masther  Kyrle,  if  ye'd  seen  him  nursin'  me 
for  months,  and  cryia'  over  me,  and  keenin'!  Sin'  that  time,  sir,  my 
body's  been  crimpia'  up  smaller  and  smaller  every  year,  but  my 
heart  is  gettin'  bigger  for  him  every  day. 

Uard  Go  along,  Danny. 

Danny  Long  life  t'ye,  sir  !  I'm  off. 

\^Runs  up  and  descends  rocks^  o.  to  a. 

Kyrle  Hardress,  a  word  with  you.  Be  honest  with  me— do  you 
love  Anne  Chute  ? 

Hard  Why  do  you  ask  ? 

Kyrle  Because  we  have  been  fellow-collegians  and  friends  through 
life,  and  the  five  years  that  I  have  passed  at  sea  have  strengthened, 
but  have  not  cooled,  my  feelings  towards  you.  [Ofers  hand. 

Enter  Mrs.  Crbgan,  from  house,  l. 

Hard  [l.]  Nor  mine  for  you,  Kyrle.  You  are  the  same  noble  fel- 
low as  ever.     You  ask  me  if  I  love  my  cousin  Anne  ? 

Mrs.  C    [c,  between  them.]  And  I  will  answer  you,  Mr.  Daly. 

Hard    [e.]  My  mother  ! 

Mrs.  C  [c]  My  son  and  Miss  Chute  are  engaged.  Excuse  me, 
Kyrle,  for  intruding  on  your  secret,  but  I  have  observed  your  love 
for  Anne  with  some  regret.  I  hope  your  heart  is  not  so  far  gone  as 
to  be  b(^ond  recovery. 

Ki/rU  [l.]  Forgive  me,  Mrs.  Cregan,  but  are  you  certain  that  Miss 
Chute  really  is  in  love  with  Hardress  f 

Mrs.  C  Look  at  him  !  I'm  sure  no  girl  could  do  that  and  doubt  it. 

Kf/rle  But  I'm  not  a  girl,  ma'am  ;  and  sure,  if  you  are  mistaken — 

Hard  My  belief  is  that  Anne  does  not  care  a  token  for  me,  and 
likes  Kyrle  better. 

Mrs.  C  [c]  You  are  an  old  friend  of  my  son,  and  I  may  confide  to 
you  a  family  secret.  The  extravagance  of  my  husband  left  this  es- 
tate deeply  involved.  By  this  marriage  with  Anne  Chute  we  redeem 
every  acre  of  our  barony.  My  son  and  she  have  been  brought  up 
as  children  together,  and  don't  know  their  true  feelings  yet. 

Hard  Stop,  mother,  I  know  this  :  I  would  not  wed  my  cousin  if 
she 'did  not  love  me,  not  if  she  carried  the  whole  county  Kerry  in  her 
pocket,  and  the  barony  of  Kenmare  in  the  crown  of  her  hat. 

Mrs.  C  Do  you  hear  tiie  proud  blood  of  the  Cregans  ? 

Hard  Woo  her,  Kyrle,  if  you  like,  and  win  her  if  you  can.  I'll 
back  you. 

Enter  Anne  Cuutb,  from  houses  l. 

Anne  [l.  c]  So  will  I— what's  the  bet? 

Mrs.  C  Hush ! 

Anne  I'd  like  to  have  bet  on  Kyrle. 

Hard  Well,  Anne,  I'll  tell  you  what  it  was. 

Mrs.  C    [c]  Hardress  ! 

Anne  [l.  c]  Pull  in  one  side  aunt,  and  let  the  boy  go  on. 

Hard  [r.]  Kyrle  wanted  to  know  if  the  dark  brown  colt,  Hardress 
Cregan,  was  going  to  walk  over  the  course  for  the  Anne  Chute  Stakes, 
or  whether  it  was  a  scrub- race  open  to  all. 

AfiM  I'm  free- trade — coppleens,  mules  and  biddys. 


Mrs.  O  How  can  you  trifle  with  a  heart  like  Kyrle's  ? 

Anne  Trifle  !  his  heart  can  be  no  trifle,  if  he's  all  in  proportion. 

Enter  Servant,  from  house,'  l. 

Servant   Squire  Corrigan,  ma'am,  begs  to  see  you. 

Mrs.  C  At  this  hour,  what  can  the  fellow  want  ?  Show  Mr.  Corrigan 
here.  [Exit  Servant  into  house,  l.]  I  hate  this  man  ;  he  was  my  hus- 
band's agent,  or  what  the  people  here  call  a  middle-man— vul- 
gularly  polite,  and  impudently  obsequious. 

Hard  [r.]  Genus  squireen— a  half  sir,  and  a  whole  scoundrel. 

Anne  I  know — a  potatoe  on  a  silver  plate  :  I'll  leave  you  to  peel 
him.     Come,  Mr.  Daly,  take  me  for  a  moonlight  walk,  and  be  funny. 

Kyrle    Funny,  ma'am,  I'm  afraid  I  am — 

Anne  You  are  heavy,  you  mean  ;  you  roll  through  the  world  like 
a  hogshead  of  whisky  ;  but  you  only  want  tapping  for  pure  spirits 
to  flow  out  spontaneously.  Give  me  your  arm.  [Crossing,  r.]  Hold 
that  glove  now.     You  are  from  Ballinasloe,  I  think  ? 

Kyrle  I'm  Conn  aught  to  the  core  of  my  heart. 

Anne  To  the  roots  of  your  hair,  you  mean.  I  bought  a  horse  at 
Ballinasloe  fair  that  deceived  me  ;  I  hope  you  won't  turn  out  to  be- 
long to  the  same  family. 

Kyrle  [r.  c]  What  did  he  do  ?       • 

Anne  Oh  !  like  you,  he  looked  well  enough — deep  in  the  chest  as  a 
pool — a-dhiol,  and  broad  in  the  back  as  the  Gap  of  Dunloe — but  af- 
ter two  days'  warm  work  he  came  all  to  pieces,  and  Larry,  my  groom, 
said  he'd  been  stuck  together  with  glue. 

Kyrle  [r.]  Really,  Miss  Chute  !  [Music. — Exeunt,  r.  1  b. 

Hard  [Advancing,  laughing.']  That  girl  is  as  wild  as  a  coppleen,-^ 
she  won't  leave  him  a  hair  on  the  head.  [Goes  up. 

Enter  Servant,  showing  in  Corrigan,  from  house,  l. 

[Exit  Servant,  l. 

Corrigan  [l.]  Your  humble  servant,  Mrs.  Cregan— my  service  t'ye, 
'Squire— it's  a  fine  night,  entirely. 

Mrs.  C  [c]  May  I  ask  to  what  business,  sir,  we  have  the  honor 
of  your  call  ? 

Corrig  [Aside,  l.  c]  Proud  as  a  Lady  Beelzebub,  and  as  grand  as  a 
queen.  [Aloud.']  True  for  you,  ma'am  ;  I  would  not  have  come,  but 
for  a  divil  of  a  pinch  I'm  in  entirely.  I've  got  to  pay  £8,000^to-mor- 
row  or  lose  the  Knockmakilty  farms. 

Mrs.C  Well,  sir? 

Corrig  And  I  v^ouldn't  throuble  ye — 

Mrs.  C  Trouble  me,  sir  ?  * 

Corrig  Iss,  ma'am — ye'd  be  forge ttin'  now  that  mortgage  I  have 
on  this  property.     It  ran  out  last  May,  and  by  rights  — 

Mrs.  C  It  will  be  paid  next  month. 

Corrig  Are  you  reckonin'  on  the  marriage  of  Mister  Hardress  and 
Miss  Anne  Chute  ? 

Hard  [Advancing,  r.]  Mr.  Corrigan,  you  forget  yourself. 

Mrs.  C  Leave  us,  Hardress,  a  while.  [Hardress  retireJi,  r.]  Now, 
Mr.  Corrigan,  state,  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  what  you  demand. 

Coiricj  Sirs.  Cregan,  ma'am,  you  depend  on  Miss  Anne  Chute's 
fortune  to  pay  me  the  money,  but  your  son  does  not  love  the  lady, 
or,  if  he  does,  he  has  a  mighty  quare  way  of  showing  it.    He  has  an- 


other  girl  on  hand,  and  betune  the  two  he'll  come  to  the  ground,  and 
80  bedad  will  I. 

Mrs.  C  That  is  false— it  is  a  calumny,  sir ! 

Qyrrig  I  wish  it  was,  ma'am.  D'ye  see  that  light  over  the  lake? 
your  son's  eyes  are  fixed  on  it.  What  would  Anne  Chute  say  if  she 
knew  that  her  husband,  that  is  to  bo,  had  a  raiotress  beyant— that 
he  slips  out  every  night  after  you're  all  in  bed,  and  like  Leandher, 
barriii'  the  wettm',  he  siiils  across  to  his  sweetheart  ? 

Mrs.  C  Is  this  the  secret  of  his  aversion  to  the  marriage  ?  Fool ! 
fool !  what  madness,  and  at  such  a  moment. 

Corrig  That's  what  I  say,  and  no  lie  in  it. 

Mrs.  C  He  shall  give  up  this  girl— he  must  I 

Corrig  I  would  like  to  have  some  security  for  that.  I  want,  by  to- 
morrow, Anne  Chute's  written  promise  to  marry  him,  or  my  £8,000. 

Mrs.  C  It  is  impossible,  sir  ;    you  hold  ruin  over  our  heads. 

Cotrig  Madam,  it's  got  to  hang  over  your  head  or  mine. 

Mrs.  C  Stay  ;  you  know  that  what  you  ask  is  out  of  our  power — 
you  know  it — therefore  this  demand  only  covers  the  true  object  of 
your  visit. 

Com'g  Ton  my  honor!  and  you  are  as  'cute,  ma'am,  as  you  are 
beautiful  I 

Mrs.  C  Goon,  sir. 

Corrig  Mrs.  Cregan,  I'm  goin'  to  do  a  foolish  thing — now,  by 
gorra  I  am  !  I'm  richer  than  ye  think,  maybe,  and  if  you'll  give  me 
your  personal  security,  I'll  take  it. 

Mrs.  C  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Corrig  I  meant  that  I'll  take  a  lien  for  life  on  you,  instead  of  the 
mortgage  I  hold  on  the  Cregan  property.  [Aside.]  That's  nate,  I'm 
thin  kin'. 

Mrs.  C  Are  you  mad  ? 

Comg  1  am — mad  in  love  with  yourself,  and  that's  what  I've  been 
these  fifteen  years.  [Music  through  dialogue,  till  Anne  Chute  is  off. 

Mrs.  G  Insolent  wretch  !  my  son  shall  answer  and  chastise  you. 
[CaUs.]  Hardress! 

Hard  [Advancing.]     Madam. 

Enter  Anne  Chute  and  Kyble,  b. 

Cbrrig  Miss  Chute !     ) 

Hard  Well,  mother?  [  [Together.] 

^nnc  Well,  sir?  ) 

Mrs.  C  [Aside.]  Scoundrel!  he  will  tell  her  all  and  ruin  us! 
[Aloud.]     Nothing.  [Turns  aside. 

Corrig  Your  obedient. 

Anne  Oh  !  [Crosses  with  Ktrle  a7id  exit,  l.  u.  e. — Music  ceases. 

Corrig  You  are  in  my  power,  ma'am.  See,  now,  not  a  sowl  but 
myself  knows  of  this  secret  love  of  Hardress  Cregan,  and  I'll  keep  it 
as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug,  if  you'll  only  say  the  word. 

Mrs.  C  Contemptible  hound,  I  loathe  and  despise  you  ! 

Corrig  I've  known  that  fifteen  years,  but  it  hasn't  cured  my  heart 

Mrs.  C  And  you  would  buy  my  aversion  and  disgust ! 

Cbrrig  Just  as  Anne  Chute  buys  your  son,  if  she  knew  but  all. 
Can  he  love  his  girl  beyant,  widout  haten  this  heiress  he's  obliged  to 


swallow? — ain't  you  stliriven  to  sell  him  ?    But  you  didn't  feel  the 
hardship  of  being  sold  till  you  tried  it  on  yourself. 

Mrs,  C  I  beg  you,  sir,  to^  leave  me. 

Corrig  Tha,t's  right,  ma'am— think  over  it,  sleep  on  it.  To-morrow 
I'll  call  for  your  answer.     Good  evenin'  kindly. 

[^Misic. — Exit  CoRRiGAN,  in  house,  L. 

Mrs.  C  Hardress. 

Hard  What  did  he  want? 

Mrs.  O  He  came  to  tell  me  the  meaning  of  yonder  light  upon  Muck- 
ross  Head. 

Hard  Ah  !  has  it  been  discovered?  Well,  mother,  now  you  know 
the  cause  of  my  coldness,  my  indifference  for  Anne. 

Mrs.  0  Are  j^ou  in  your  senses,  Hardress?     Who  is  this  girl  ? 

Hird  She  is  known  at  every  fair  and  pattern  in  Munster  as  the 
Colleen  Bawn — her  name  is  Eily  O'Connor. 

3Irs.  C  A  peasant  girl — a  vulgar,  barefooted  beggar ! 

Hard  Whatever  she  is,  love  has  made  her  my  equal,  and  when  you 
set  your  foot  upon  her  you  tread  upon  my  heart. 

Mrs.  0  'Us  well,  Hardress.  I  feel  that  perhaps  I  have  no  right  to 
dispose  of  your  life  and  your  happiness— no,  my  dear  son — I  would 
not  wound  you — heaven  knows  how  well  I  love  my  darling  boy,  and 
you. shall  feel  it.  Corrigan  has  made  me  an  offer  by  which  you  may 
regain  the  estate,  and  without  selling  yourself  to  Anne  Chute. 

Hard  What  is  it  ?    Of  course  you  accepted  it  ? 

3Irs.  C  No,  but  I  will  accept,  yes,  for  your  sake — I — I  will.  He 
offers  to  cancel  this  mortgage  if — if —I  will  consent  to — become  his 

Hard  You— you,  mother?    Has  he  dared — 

Mrs.  C  Hush  1  he  is  right.  A  sacrifice  must  bo  made — either  you 
or  I  must  suffer.  Life  is  before  you — my  days  well  nigh  past — 
and  for  your  sake,  Hardress — for  yours  ;  my  pride,  my  only  one. — 
Oh  !  I  would  give  you  more  than  my  life. 

Hard  Never — never  !  I  will  not — can  not  accept  it.  I'll  tear  that 
dog's  tongue  from  his  throat  that  dared  insult  you  with  the  offer. 

Mrs.  0  Foolish  boy,  before  to-morrow  night  we  shall  be  beggars — 
outcasts  from  this  estate.  Humiliation  and  poverty  stand  like  spec- 
ters at  yonder  door — to-morrow  they  will  be  realities.  Can  you  tear 
out  the  tongues  that  will  wag  over  our  fallen  fortunes  ?  You  are  a 
child,  you  can  not  see  beyond  your  happiness. 

Hard  Oh,  mother,  mother  !  what  can  be  done  ?  My  marriage  with 
Anne  is  impossible. 

Enter  Danny  Mann,  up  rock,  at  hack. 

Danny  [r.  c]  Whisht,  if  ye  plaze— yc're  talkin'  so  loud  she'll 
hear  ye  say  that— she's  comin'. 

Mrs.  C  Has  this  fellow  overheard  us? 

Hard  If  he  has,  he  is  mine,  body  and  soul.  I'd  rather  trust  Lim 
with  a  secret  than  keep  it  m5'self. 

3frs.  C  [l.  c]  I  can  not  remain  to  see  Anne;  excuse  me  to  my 
friends.  The  night  perhaps  will  bring  counsel,  or  at  least  resolution 
to  hear  the  worst !     Good  night,  my  son. 

[Mitsic. — Exit  into  house,  L. 

Danny  [r.  c]  Oh,  masther !  she  doesn't  know  the  worst!  She 
doesn't  know  that  you  are  married  to  the  Colleen  Bawu. 


Hard  Hush !  what  fiend  prompts  you  to  thrust  that  act  of  folly 
in  my  face  ? 

Danny  Thrue  for  ye,  masther  !  I'm  a  dirty  mane  scut  to  remind  ye 

Hard  What  will  my  haughty,  noble  mother  flay,  when  she  learns 
the  truth  !  how  can  I  ask  her  to  receive  Eily  as  a  daughter? — Eily, 
with  her  awkward  manners,  her  Kerry  brogue,  her  ignorance  of  the 
usages  of  society.     Oh,  what  have  I  done  ? 

Danny  Oh !  vo— vo,  has  the  ould  family  come  to  this  !  Is  it  the 
daughter  of  Mihil-na-Thradrucha,  the  old  rope-maker  of  Garryowen, 
that  'ud  take  the  flure  as  your  wife  ? 

Hard  Be  silent,  scoundrel  I  How  dare  you  speak  thus  of  my  love  I 
^wretch  that  I  am  to  blame  her ! — poor,  beautiful,  angel-hearted 

Danny  Beautiful  is  it !  Och — wurra — wurra,  declish  !  The  look- 
ing-glass was  never  made  that  could  do  her  justice  ;  and  if  St.  Pat- 
rick wanted  a  wife,  where  would  he  fmd  an  angel  that  'ud  compare 
with  the  Colleen  Bawn.  As  I  row  her  on  the  lake,  the  little  fishes 
come  up  to  look  at  her  ;  and  the  wind  from  heaven  lifts  up  her  hair 
to  see  what  the  divil  brings  her  down  here  at  all — at  all. 

Hard  The  fault  is  mine— mine  alone — I  alone  will  suffer  I 

Danny  Why  isn't  it  mine?  Why  can't  I  suffer  for  yez,  masther 
dear  ?  Wouldn't  I  swally  every  tear  in  your  body,  and  every  bit  ot 
bad  luck  in  your  life,  and  then  wid  a  stone  round  my  neck,  sink  my- 
self and  your  sorrows  in  the  bottom  of  the  lower  lake. 

Hard  [Placing  hand  on  Danny.]  Good  Danny,  away  with  you  to 
the  boat — be  ready  in  a  few  moments  ;  we  will  cross  to  Muckross 
Head.  [Looks  at  light  al  back, 

[Music. — Exit  Hardress  into  house^  l. 

Danny  Never  fear,  sir.  Oh  !  it  isn't  that  spalpeen,  Corrigan,  that 
shall  bring  ruin  on  that  ould  place.  Lave  Danny  alone.  Danny, 
the  fox,  will  lade  yez  round  and  about,  and  cross  the  scint.  [Takes 
of  his  hat — sees  ktier.]  Bedad,  here's  the  letter  from  the  Colleen 
Bawn  that  I  couldn't  fmd  awhile  ago — it's  little  use  now.  [Goes  to 
Icncer  window^  and  reads  by  light  from  house.]  "Come  to  your  own 
Eily,  that  has  not  seen  you  for  two  long  days.  Come,  acushla  agrah 
machree.  I  have  forgotten  how  much  you  love  me — Shule,  shule 
agrah. — Colleen  Bawn."     Divil  an  address  is  on  it. 

Enter  Kyrle  atid  Anne,  l.  u.  e. 

Anne  [c]     Have  they  gone  ? 

Kyrle  [l.  c]     It  is  nearly  midnight. 

Anne  Before  we  go  in,  I  insist  on  knowing  who  is  this  girl  that 
possesses  your  heart.  You  confess  that  you  are  in  love— deeply  in 

Kyrh  I  do  confess  it— but  not  even  your  power  can  extract  that 
secret  from  me— do  not  ask  me,  for  I  could  not  be  false,  yet  dare  not 
be  true.  ]^Exii  Kyrle  into  house,  l. 

Anne  [l.  c."1  He  loves  me — oh!  he  loves  me— the  little  bird  is 
making  a  nest  in  my  heart.     Oh  !   I'm  faint  with  joy. 

Danny  [As  if  calling  after  him.]    Sir,  sir  ! 

Anne  Who  is  that? 

Danny  I'm  the  boatman  below,  an'  I'm  waitin  for  the  gintleman- 



Anne  "What  gentleman  ? 

Daunt/  Him  that's  jist  left  me,  ma'am — I'm  waitin'  on  him. 

Anne  Does  Mr.  Kyrle  Daly  go  out  boating  at  this  hour  ? 

Danny  It*s  not  for  !me  to  say,  ma'am,  but  every  night  at  twelve 
o'clock  I'm  here  wid  my  boat  under  the  blue  rock  below,  to  put  him 
across  the  lake  to  Muckross  Head.  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,  but 
here's  a  paper  ye  dropped  on  the  walk  beyant — if  it's  no  vally  I'd 
like  to  light  my  pipe  wid  it.  [Gives  it 

Anne  A  paper  I  dropped  !  [Goes  to  window — reads. 

Danny  [Aside.]  Oh,  Misther  Corrigan,  you'll  ruin  masther  will  ye? 
aisy  now,  and  see  how  I'll  put  the  cross  on  ye. 

Anne  A  love-letter  from  some  peasant  girl  to  Kyrle  Daly !  Can 
this  be  the  love  of  which  he  spoke  ?  Jiave  I  deceived  myself  ? 

Danny  I  must  be  oflf,  ma'am  ;  here  comes  the  signal.         [Music. 

Anne  The  signal  ? 

Danny  D'ye  see  yonder  light  upon  Muckross  Head?  It  is  in  a  . 
cottage  windy;  that  light *goes  in  and  out  three  times  winkin'  that 
way,  as  much  as  to  say,  •'  Are  ye  comin'  ?"  Then  if  the  li?:ht  in 
that  room  there  [points  at  hou:e  above,]  answers  by  a  wink,  it  manes 
No !  but  if  it  goes  out  entirely,  his  honor  jumps  from  the  parlor 
windy  into  the  garden  behind,  and  we're  oflf.  Look  !  [Light  in  cottage 
disappears.]  That's  one.  [Light  appears.]  Now  again.  [Light  disap- 
pears.] That's  two.  [Light  appears.]  What  did  I  tell  you  ?  [Light 
disappears.]  That's  three,  and  here  it  comes  again.  [Light  appears.] 
Wait  now,  and  ye' 11  see  the  answer.  [Light  disappears  front  window,  l.] 
That's  my  gentleman.  [Music  change.]  You  see  he's  goin' — good 
night,  ma'am. 

Anne  Stay,  here's  money ;  do  not  tell  Mr.  Daly  that  I  know  of 

Danny  Divil  a  word — long  life  t'ye.  [Goes  up. 

Anne  I  was  not  deceived ;  he  meant  me  to  understand  that  he 
loved  me  !  Hark  !  I  hear  the  sound  of  some  one  who  leaped  heavily 
on  the  garden  walk.  [Goes  to  hou^e  i..— looking  at  hack. 

Enter  Hardress,  wrapped  in  a  boat  cloak,  l.  u.  e. 

Danny  [Going  down,  r.  c]   All  right,  yer  honor. 

[Hardress  crosses  at  back,  and  down  rock,  R.  0. 
Anne  [Hiding,  l.]    It  is  he,  'tis  he. 

[Mistaking  Hardress  for  Daly — closed  in. 

SCENE   n. — The  Gap  of  Dunloe.     [1st  grooves.]     Hour  before  sunrise. 

Enter  Corrigan,  r.  1  e. 

Oorrig  From  the  rock  above  I  saw  the  boat  leave  Tore  Cregan.  It 
is  now  crossing  the  lake  to  the  cottage.  Who  is  this  girl  ?  What  is 
this  mysterious  misthress  of  young  Cregan  ?— that  I'll  find  out. 

[Myles  sings  oiitsidef  L. 

**  Oh !  Charley  Mount  is  a  pretty  place, 
In  the  month  of  July " 

'g  Who's  that?— 'Tis  that  poaching  scoundrel — that  horse 
stealer,  Myles  na  Coppaleen.  Here  he  com'^s  with  a  keg  of  illicit 
whiflky,  as  bould  as  NebuckadBBzar. 



Enter  Mtlb3,  singing^  with  keg  on  his  thoulder^  L. 

Is  that  you,  Myles  ? 

Mijles  No  !  it's  my  brother. 

Corrig  I  know  ye,  my  man. 

Myles  Then  why  the  divil  did  yc  ax  ? 

Ccrrrig  You  may  as  well  answer  me  kindly — civility  costs  nothing. 

Mijles  [l.  c]  Ovv  now!  don't  it?  Civility  to  a  lawyer  manes  six- 
and-eight-pence  about. 

Corrig  [r.  c]   Whai'o  that  on  your  shoulder? 

M^jles  What  s  that  to  you  ? 

Cori-ig  I  am  a  magistrate,  and  can  oblige  you  to  answer. 

Miles  Well!  it's  a  boulster,  belongin'  to  my  mother's  feather  bed. 

Coirig  StufTd  with  whLsky  ! 

Myles  Bedad  !  how  would  I  know  what  it's  stuff  d  wid  ?  I'm  not 
an  upholsterer. 

Corrig  Come,  Myles,  I'm  not  so  bad  a  fellow  as  ye  may  think. 

Myles  To  think  of  that  now ! 

0)rrig  I  am  not  the  mane  creature  you  imagine  ! 

Myles.  Ain't  ye  now,  sir?  You  keep  up  appearances  mighty  well, 

Corrig  No,  Myles!  I  am  not  that  blackguard  I've  been  repre- 

Myles  \^SUs  on  heg.]  See  that  now — how  people  take  away  a  man's 
character.     You  are  another  sort  of  blackguard  entirely. 

Corrig  You  shall  find  me  a  gentleman — liberal,  and  ready  to  pro- 
tect you. 

Myles  Long  life  t'ye  sir. 

Corrig  Myles,  you  have  come  down  in  the  world  lately ;  a  year 
ago  you  were  a  thriving  horse-dealer,  now  you  are  a  lazy,  ragged 

Myles  Ah,  it's  the  bad  luck,  sir,  that's  in  it. 

Corrig  No,  it's  the  love  of  Eily  O'Connor  that's  in  it — it's  the  pride 
of  Garryowen  that  took  your  heart  away,  and  made  ye  what  ye  are 
— a  smuggler  and  a  poacher. 

Mylei  Thim's  hard  words. 

Corrig  But  they  are  true.  You  live  like  a  wild  beast  in  some  cave 
or  hole  in  the  rocks  above  ;  by  night  your  gun  is  heard  shootin'  the 
otter  as  they  lie  out  on  the  stones,  or  you  snare  the  salmon  in  your 
nets  ;  on  a  cloudy  night  your  whisky-still  is  going — you  see,  I 
know  your  life. 

Myles  Better  than  the  priest,  and  devil  a  lie  in  it. 

Gorrig  Now,  if  I  put  ye  in  a  snug  farm — stock  ye  with  pigs  and 
cattle,  and  rowl  you  up  comfortable— d'ye  think  the  Colleen  Bawn 
wouldn't  jump  at  ye  ? 

Myles  Bedad,  she'd  make  a  lapc,  I  b'lieve— and  what  would  I  do 
for  ail  this  luck  ? 

Corrig  Find  out  for  me  who  it  is  that  lives  at  the  cottage  on  Muck- 
ross  Head. 

Myles  That's  aisy— it's  Danny  Mann— no  less  and  his  ould  mother 

Corrig  Yes,  Myles,  but  there's  another — a  girl  who  is  hid  there. 

Myles  Ah,  now  ! 

Oofrig  Shi9  only  goes  out  at  night. 


Myles  Like  the  owls. 

Corrig  She's  the  misthress  of  Hardress  Cregan. 

Myles  [Seizing  Corrig  ax,]     Thurra  moa  dhipl,  what's  that? 

Corrig  Oh,  lor!  Myles — Myles — what's  the  matter — are  you  mad? 

3Iyles  No — that  is — why — why  did  ye  raise  your  hand  at  me  iu  that 
way  ? 

Corrig  I  didn't. 

Myles  I  thought  ye  did — I'm  mighty  quick  at  takin*  thim  hints, 
bein'  on  me  keepin'  agin  the  gangers — go  on — I  didn't  hurt  ye. 

Corrig  Not  much. 

Myles  You  want  to  find  out  who  this  girl  is? 

Corrig  I'll  give  £20  for  the  information — there's  ten  on  account. 

[Gives  money, 

Myles  Long  life  t'ye ;  that's  the  first  money  I  iver  got  from  a 
lawyer,  and  bad  luck  to  me,  but  there's  a  cure  for  the  evil  eye  in 
thim  pieces. 

Corrig  You  will  watch  to-night  ? 

Myles  In  five  minutes  I'll  be  inside  the  cottage  Itself. 

Corrig  That's  the  lad. 

Myles  [Aside.l     I  wasgoin' there. 

Corrig  And  to-morrow  you  will  step  down  to  my  office  with  the 

Myles  To-morrow  you  shall  breakfast  on  them. 

Corrig  Good  night,  entirely.  [Exit  Cor]JIGAit,  l. 

Myles  I'll  give  ye  a  cowstail  to  swally,  and  make  ye  think  it's  a 
chapter  in  St.  Patrick,  ye  spalpeen  ?  When  he  called  Eily  the  mis- 
thress of  Hardress  Cregan,  I  nearly  sthretched  him — begorra,  I  was 
full  of  sudden  death  that  minute  !  Oh,  Eily  !  acushla  agrah  asthore 
machree  !  as  the  stars  watch  over  Innisfallen,  and  as  the  wathers  go 
round  it  and  keep  it,  so  I  watch  and  keep  round  you,  avourneen ! 

Song. — Myles. 

Oh,  Limerick  is  beautiful,  as  everybody  knows, 
The  river  Shannon's  full  of  fish,  beside  tiiat  city  flows  ; 
But  it  is  not  the  river,  nor  the  fish  that  preys  upon  my  mind, 
Nor  with  the  town  of  Limerick  have  I  any  fault  t3  fifid. 
The  girl  I  love  is  beautiful,  she's  fairer  than  the  dawn  ; 
She  lives  in  Garryowen,  and  she's  called  the  Colleen  Bawn. 
As  the  river,  proud  and  bold,  goes  by  that  famed  city. 
So  proud  and  cold,  without  a  word,  that  Colleen  goes  by  me ! 

Oh,  hone  !  Oh,  hone ! 

Oh,  if  I  was  the  Emperor  of  Paissia  to  command. 
Or,  Julius  Ccesar,  or  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  land, 
I'd  give  up  all  my  wealth,  my  manes,  I'd  give  up  my  army, 
Both  the  horse,  the  fut,  and  the  Royal  Artillery ; 
I'd  give  the  crown  from  off  my  head,  the  people  on  their  knees, 
I'd  give  my  fleet  of  sailing  ships  upon  the  briny  seas, 
And  a  beggar  I'd  go  to  sleep,  a  happy  man  at  dawn. 
If  by  my  side,  fast  for  my  bride,  I'd  the  darlin'  Colleen  Bawn. 

Oh,  hone  !  Oh,  hone  ! 

I  must  rench  the  cottage  before  the  masther  arrives  ;  Father  Tom 
!b  therd  waitin'  for  this  keg  o'  starlight — it's  my  tithe  ;  I  ca*!!  every 


tenth  keg  "  his  riverince."  It's  worth  money  to  see  the  way  it  does 
the  old  man  good,  and  brings  the  wathcr  in  his  eyes,  the  only  place  I 
^ver  see  any  about  him— heaven  bless  him  ! 

[Singa,  Exit  Myuss,  e. — Music. 

SCENE  III. — Interior  of  Eili/'s  CoUaye  on  Mudcroi^s  Head ;  fire  burning^ 
R.  3  E.;  iable^  e.  c;  arm  chair  ;  two  stools^  r.  of  table  ;  stool  l.  oftahU; 
basin,  sugar  spoon,  two  Jugs,  tobacco^  plate,  knife,  and  lemon  on  table. 

Father  Tom  discovered  smoking  in  arm  chair,  r.  o. — Eily  in  balcony ^ 
watching  over  lake. 

Patlier  Tom  [Sings.']  "  Tobacco  is  an  Injun  weed."  And  every  weed 
want's  wathering  to  make  it  come  up  ;  but  tobacco  bcin'  an'  Injun 
weed  that  is  accustomed  to  a  hot  climate,  water  U  entirely  too  cold 
for  its  warrum  nature— it's  whisky  and  water  it  wants.  I  wonder  if 
Myles  has  come  ;  I'll  ask  Eily.  [CalU.]  Eily,  alanna !  Eily,  a  Bullish 
machree ! 

Eily  [Turning.']  Is  it  me,  Father  Tom  ? 

Father  T  Has  he  come  ? 

Eily  No  ;  his  boat  is  half  a  mile  off  yet. 

Father  T  Half  a  mile  !  I'll  choke  before  he's  here. 

Eily  Do  you  mean  Hardress  ? 

Father  T  No,  dear !  Myles  na  Coppalcen — cum  spirita  Hibemeuse^ 
which  manes  in  Irish,  wid  a  keg  of  poteen. 

Enter  Myles,  r.  u.  e.,  down  c. 

Myles  Here  I  am,  your  riverince,  never  fear.  I  tonld  Sheelah  to 
hurry  up  with  the  materials,  knowin'  ye  be  dhry  and  hasty. 

^n/er  Sheelau,  with  kettle  of  water,  r.  u.  e. 

Sheelah  Here's  the  hot  water. 

Myles  Lave  it  there  till  I  brew  Father  Tom  a  pint  of  mother's 

Sheelah  Well  thin,  ye'll  do  your  share  of  the  work,  an  not  a  ha'- 
porth  more. 

Myles  Dl'ln't  I  bring  the  sperrits  from  two  miles  and  more  ?  and  I 
deserve  to  have  prefrcacc  to  make  the  punch  for  his  riverince. 

Sheelah  And  didn't  I  watch  the  kettle  all  night,  not  to  let  it  off  the 
boil  ? — there  no";v. 

Myles  [Quarreling  with]  No,  you  didn't,  etc. 

Sheelah  [Quarrelirig.]  Yes,  I  did.  etc. 

Eily  No,  no  ;  I'll  make  it,  and  nobody  else. 

Father  T  Aisy  now,  ye  becauns,  and  whist ;  Myles  shall  put  in  the 
whisky,  Sheelah  shall  put  in  the  hot  water,  and  Eily,  my  Colleen, 
shall  put  the  sugar  in  the  cruiskeen.  A  blcssin'  on  ye  all  three  that 
loves  the  ould  man.  [Mtlks  totej  ojjf  hcU—WoMES  curtsey— -t'ley  make 
punch.]  See  now,  my  cliildren.  there's  a  moral  in  everthing,  e'en  in  a 
jug  of  punoh.  There's  the  sperrit,  whicli  is  Iho  sov/1  anrl  strcn^^th  of 
the  man.  \)iiTLKipoHrs  spirit  from  keg. \  That'H  the  whisky.  Tiicrc's 
the  s'.igar,  which  is  the  smile  of  woman  ;  [  Eit.v  puts  sugar.]  without 
that  life  is  without  taste  or  swcctac.s.^  'Ihcn  tiicrc's  the  lemon. [ICily 
puts  lemon.]  which  is  love  ;  a  squeeze  now  and  again  doco  a  boy  no 
harm  ;  but  not  too  mucii.     And  tho  hot  water  [SHEBLAn/xx^rJ  water*'] 


wliich  is  adversity — as  little  as  possible  if  ye  plaze — that  makes  the 
good  things  better  still. 

Myles  And  it's  complate,  ye  see,  for  it's  a  woman  that  gets  into 
hot  wather  all  the  while.  [Pours  from  jug  to  jug. 

Sheeluh  Myles,  if  I  hadn't  the  kettle,  I'd  bate  ye. 

Myles  Then,  why  didn't  ye  let  me  make  the  punch  ?  There's  a 
guinea  fur  your  riverince  that's  come  t'ye — one  in  ten  I  got  a  while 
ago — it's  your  tithe — put  a  hole  in  it,  and  hang  it  on  your  watch 
chain,  for  it's  a  mighty  great  charm  entirely. 

[T/iey  sit,  Sheelah  near  fire,  Colleen  on  stool  beside  her,  Father  Tom  in 
chair,  Myles  o?i  stool,  l.  of  table. 

FatJier  T  Eily,  look  at  that  boy,  and  tell  me,  haven't  ye  a  dale  to 
answer  for  ? 

Eily  He  isn't  as  bad  about  me  as  he  used  to  be  ;  he's  getting  over 

Myles  Yes,  darlin',  the  storm  has  passed  over,  and  I've  got  into 
settled  bad  weather. 

Father  T  Maybe,  afther  all,  ye'd  have  done  better  to  have  married 
Myles  there,  than  be  the  wife  of  a  man  that's  ashamed  to  own  ye. 

Eily  He  isn't — ^he's  proud  of  me.  It's  only  when  I  spake  like  the 
poor  people,  and  say  or  do  anything  wrong,  that  he's  hurt  ;  but  I'm 
gettin'  clane  of  the  brogue,  and  learnin'  to  do  nothiug — I'm  to  be 
changed  entirely. 

Myles  Oh !  if  he'd  lave  me  yer  own  self,  and  only  take  away  wid 
him  his  improvements.  Oh!  murder— Eily,  aroon,  why  wasn't  ye 
twins,  an'  I  could  buve  one  of  ye,  only  nature  couldn't  make  two  like 
ye — it  would  be  oareasonable  to  ax  it. 

Eily  Poor  Myles,  do  you  love  me  still  so  much  ? 

Myles  Didn't  I  lave  the  world  to  folley  ye,  and  since  then  there's 
been  neither  night  nor  day  in  my  life — I  lay  down  on  Glenna  Point 
above,  where  I  see  this  cottage,  and  I  lived  on  the  sight  of  it.  Oh  ! 
Eily,  if  tears  were  pison  to  the  grass  theie  wouldn't  be  a  green  blade 
on  Glenna  Hill  this  day. 

Eily  But  you  knew  1  was  married,  Myles. 

Myles  Not  thin,  aroon — Father  Tom  found  me  that  way,  and  sat 
beside,  and  lifted  up  my  soul.  Then  I  confessed  to  him,  and,  sez  he, 
**  Myles,  go  to  Eily,  she  has  something  to  say  to  you — say  I  sent  you." 
I  came,  and  ye  tould  me  ye  were  Hardress  Cretan's  wife,  and  that 
was  a  great  comfort  entirely.  Since  I  knew  that  [Drinks — voice  in  cup.] 
I  haven't  been  the  blackguard  I  was. 

Fat/ier  T  See  the  beauty  of  the  priest,  my  darlin' — videteet  admirate 
— see  and  admire  it.  It  was  at  confession  that  Eily  tould  me  she 
loved  Cregan,  and  what  did  I  do? — sez  I,  "Where  did  you  meet 
your  sweetheart  ?"  "At  Garryowen,"  sez  she.  "  Well,"  says  I ; 
"that's  not  the  place."  "Thrue,  your  riverince,  it's  too  public  en- 
tirely," sez  she.  "  ye' 11  mate  him  only  in  one  place,"  sez  I ;  "  and 
tliat's  the  stile  that's  behind  my  chapel,"  for,  d'ye  see,  her  mother's 
grave  was  forenint  the  spot,  and  there's  a  sperrit  round  the  place, 
[Myles  dnnks,\  that  kept  her  pure  and  strong.  Myles,  ye  thafe,  drink 

Sheelah  Come  now,  Eily,  couldn't  ye  cheer  up  his  riverince  wid  the 
tail  of  a  song  ? 

Edy  Hardress  bid  me  not  sing  any  ould  Irish  songs,  ho  says  tho 
W4>rd8  are  vulgar. 


Sheelah  Father  Tom  will  give  ye  absolution 

Father  T  Put  your  lips  to  that  jug  ;  there's  only  the  strippens  left. 
Drink !  and  while  that  thrue  Irish  liquor  warms  your  heart,  take  this 
wid  it.  May  the  brogue  of  ould  Ireland  nivcr  forsake  your  tongue  — 
may  her  music  niver  lave  yer  voice — and  may  a  true  Irishwoman's 
virtue  niver  die  in  your  heart ! 

MyUs  Come,  Eily,  it's  my  liquor— haven't  ye  a  word  to  say  for  il  ? 

Song^  Eily — *  *  Cruiakem  Lavm. ' ' 

Let  the  fanner  praise  his  grounds, 
As  the  huntsman  doth  his  hounds, 

And  the  shepherd  his  fresh  and  dewy  mom  ; 
But  I,  more  blest  than  they, 
Spend  each  night  and  happy  day. 

With  my  smilin'  little  Crusikeen  Lawn,  Lawn,  Lawn. 
Chorus  [Repeat.]  Gramachrcc,  mavourncen,  slanta  gal  avoumeen, 
Graraachrcc  ma  Cruiskecn  La^vn,  Lawn,  Lawn, 
With  my  smiling  little  Cruiskeen  Lawn. 

[Chorused  by  Mylea,  Father  T.,  and  Sheelah. 


And  when  grim  Death  appears, 

Li  long  and  happy  years, 

To  tell  me  that  my  glass  is  run, 

I'll  say,  begone  you  slave. 

For  great  Bacchus  gave  me  lave 

To  have  another  Cruiskecn  Lawn — ^Lawn — ^Lawn. 

CJiorus.  — Repeat 

Gramachree,  &c.,  &c. 

Hard  [Without,  L.  u.  E.l  Ho!  Sheelah— Sheelah  I 
Sheelah  [Rising.]  Whist  1  it's  the  master. 

Eihj  [Frightened.]  Hardress  !  oh,  my  !    what  will  he  say  if  he  finds 
us  here— run,  Myles — quick,  Sheelah — clear  away  the  things. 
leather  T  Hurry  now,  or  we'll  get  Eily  in   throuble. 

[Takezlitg — Myles  takes  Jugs— Sueelau  lellle. 
Hard  Sheelah,  I  say  ! 

[Exeunt  Father  Tom  and  Myles,  k.  u.  e.,  quickly, 
Shedah  Comin',  Sir,  I'm  puttm'  on  ray  petticoat. 

[Exit  Sheelah,  r.  u.  e.,  qmcldy. 

Enter  Hardress  and  Dakny,  l.  u.  e.  opcmn^— Danny  immedialcly  goet 
offy  R.  u.  E 

Eily  [c]  Oh,  Hardress,  asthore? 

Eard  [l.  c]  Don't  by  those  confounded  Irish  words — ^what's 
the  matter  ?  you're  trembling  like  a  bird  caught  in  a  trap. 

EUy  Am  I,  mavou— no  I  mean— is  it  tremblin*  I  am,  dear? 

Hard  What  a  dreadful  smell  of  tobacco  there  is  here,  and  the  fumes 
of  whisky  punch,  too  ;  the  place  smells  like  a  shebeen.  Who  has 
been  here  ? 

Eily  There  was  Father  Tom,  an'  Myles  dhropped  in. 

Hard  Nice  compeny  for  my  wife — a  vagabond. 


Eily  Ah  !  who  made  him  so  but  me,  dear?  Before  IsawyoTi,  Hard- 
ress,  Myles  coorted  me,  and  I  was  kindly  to  the  boy. 

Hard  Damn  it,  Eily,  why  will  you  remind  me  that  my  wife  was 
ever  in  such  a  position  ? 

Eily  I  won't  see  him  again — if  yer  angry,  dear,  I'll  tell  him  to  go 
away,  and  he  will,  because  the  poor  boy  loves  me. 

Hard  Yes,  better  than  I  do  you  mean  ? 

Eily  No,  I  don't — oh  !  why  do  you  spake  so  to  your  poor  Eily  ! 

Hard  Spake  so !  Can't  you  say  speak  ? 

Eily  I'll  thry,  aroon — I'm  sthrivin' — 'tis  mighty  hard,  but  what 
wouldn't  I  undert-tee-ta — undergo  for  your  sa-se — for  your  seek. 

Hard  Sake — sake  ! 

Eily  Sake — seek — oh,  it  is  to  bother  people  entirely  they  mixed 
'em  up  !  Why  didn't  they  make  them  all  one  way  ? 

Hard  [Aside.']  It  is  impossible  !  How  can  I  present  her  as  my  wife  ? 
Oh  !  what  an  act  of  madness  to  tie  myself  to  one  so  much  beneath 
me — beautiful — good  as  she  is — 

Eily  Hardress,  you  are  pale — what  has  happened  ? 

Hard  Nothing— that  is,  nothing  but  what  you  will  rejoice  at. 

Eily  What  d'ye  mane? 

Hard  What  do  I  mane !  Mean — mean  ! 

Eily  I  beg  your  pardon,  dear. 

Hard  Well ;  I  mean  that  after  to-morrow  there  will  be  no  necessity. 
to  hide  our  marriage,  for  I  shall  be  a  beggar,  my  mother  wiU  be  an 
outcast,  and  amidst  all  the  shame,  who  will  care  what  wife  a  Cregan 
takes  ? 

Eily  And  d'ye  think  I'd  like  to  see  you  dhragged  down  to  my  side 
— ye  don't  know  me — see  now — never  call  me  wife  again — don't  let 
on  to  mortal  that  we're  married — I'll  go  as  a  servant  in  your  moth- 
er's house — I'll  work  for  the  smile  ye'll  give  me  in  passing,  and  I'll 
be  happy,  if  ye'll  only  let  me  stand  outside  and  hear  your  voice. 

Hard  You're  a  fool.  I  told  you  that  I  was  bethrothed  to  the  rich- 
est heiress  in  Kerry ;  her  fortune  alone  can  save  us  from  ruin.  To-night 
my  mgther  discovered  my  visits  here,  and  I  told  her  who  you 

Edy  Oh !  what  did  she  say  ? 

Hard  It  broke  her  neart. 

Eily  Hardress  !  is  there  no  hope  ? 

Hard  None.     That  is  none— ^that — that  I  can  name. 

Eily  There  is  one — I  see  it. 

Hard  There  is.  We  were  children  when  we  were  married,  and  I 
could  get  no  priest  to  join  our  hands  but  one,  and  he  had  been  dis- 
graced by  his  bishop.  He  is  dead.  There  was  no  witness  to  the  cere- 
mony but  Danny  Mann — no  proof  but  his  word,  and  your  certificate. 

Exly  [Takes  paper  from  her  breast.]  This! 

Hard  Eily  !  if  you  doubt  my  eternal  love,  keep  that  security  ;  it 
gives  you  the  right  to  the  shelter  of  my  roof  ;  but  oh  I  if  you  would 
be  content  with  the  shelter  of  my  heart. 

Eily  And  will  it  save  ye,  Hardress  ?  And  will  your  mother  forgive 

Hard  She  will  bless  you — she  will  take  you  to  her  breast. 

Eily  But  you — another  wall  take  you  to  her  breast. 

Hard  Oh,  Eily,  darling,  d'ye  think  I  could  forget  you,  machred— 
ft irget  the  sacrifice  more  than  blood  you  give  me  ? 


Eily  Oh !  when  you  talk  that  way  to  me,  ye  might  take  my  lifo, 
and  heart,  and  all.  Oh  !  Hardress,  I  love  you — take  the  paper  and 
tare  it.  [Hardrsss  taka  paper. 

EiiUr  Mtlss  c,  opening. 

Myles  No.    I'll  he  damned  if  he  shall. 

Htrd  Scoundrel !  you  have  heen  listening  ? 

Myles  To  every  word.  I  saw  Danny,  wid  his  ear  agin  that  dure,  so 
as  there  was  only  one  k  ly-hole,  I  adopted  the  windy.  Eily,  aroon, 
Mr.  CregJin  will  giv'  ye  hack  that  paper  ;  you  can't  tare  up  an  oath; 
will  ye  help  him  then  to  cheat  this  other  girl,  and  to  make  her  his 
mistress,  for  that's  what  she'll  be  if  ye  are  his  wife.  An'  after  all, 
what  is  there  agin'  the  crature  ?  Only  the  money  she's  got.  Will 
you  stop  lovin'  him  when  his  love  belongs  to  another  ?  No !  I  know 
it  by  myself ;  but  if  ye  jine  their  hands  together  your  love  will  be  an 

Eily  Oh,  no ! 

Hard  Vagabond  !  outcast !  jail  bird  !  dare  you  prate  of  honor  to 

Myles  [c]  I  am  an  outlaw,  Mr.  Cregan— a  felon,  may  be — but  it 
you  do  this  thing  to  that  poor  girl  that  loves  you  so  much— had  I 
my  neck  in  the  rope— or  my  fut  on  the  deck  of  a  convict  ship— I'd 
turn  round  and  say  to  ye,  "  Hardress  Cregan,  I  make  ye  a  present 
of  the  contimpt  of  a  rogue.'*  [Sn  ips  fingers, 

M'isic  till  end  of  Act.— Enter  Father  Tom,  Sheelah  and  Danny,  r.  u.  b. 
— Hardress  throws  down  paper — goes  to  table — takes  lint 

Hard  Be  it  so,  Eily,  farewell !  until  my  house  is  clear  of  these  ver- 
min— [Danny  appe/irs  at  back] — you  will  see  me  no  more. 

yEzU  Hardress,  l.  c,  followed  by  Danny. 

Eily  Hardress— Hardress!   [Going  up.]  Don't  leave  me,  Hardress! 

Faifier  T  [Intercepts  her.]   Stop,  Eily !         [Danny  returns  and  listens. 

Eily  He's  trone — he's  gone ! 

Father  T  Give  me  that  paper,  Myles.  [^Iyles  picks  U  up— gives  it.] 
Kneel  down  there,  Eily,  before  me— put  that  pai)er  in  your  breast. 

Eily  [Kneeling.]  Oh,  what  will  I  do— what  will  I  do? 

Fidfier  T  Fut  your  hand  upon  it  now. 

Eily  Oh,  my  heart — my  heart ! 

Father  T  Be  thee  hush,  and  spake  after  me — by  my  mother  that's 
in  heaven. 

Eily  By  rav  mother  that's  in  heaven. 

Father  T  By  the  light  and  the  word. 

Eily  By  the  lii^ht  and  the  word. 

Father  T  Sleepin'  or  wakin'. 

Eily  Sleepin'  or  wakin'. 

Father  T  This  proof  of  my  truth. 

EUy  This  proof  of  my  truth. 

Father  T  Shall  never  again  quit  my  breast. 

Eily  Shall  never  again  quit  my  breast. 

Eily  vUers  a  cry  and  falls— Tableau, 



SCENE  I. — [1st  Grooves.] — Gap  of  Dunloe;  same  as  2d  Scene^  Act  I. — ■ 


Enter  Hardress  and  Danny,  l.  1  e. 

Hard  [r.]  Oh,  what  a  giddy  fool  I've  been  !  What  would  I  give 
to  recall  this  fatal  act  which  bars  my  fortune  ? 

Danny  [l.]  There's  something  throublin'  yez,  Masther  Hardress. 
Can't  Danny  do  something  to  aise  ye  ?  Spake  the  word,  and  I'll  die 
for  ye. 

Eard  Danny,  I  am  troubled.  I  was  a  fool  when  I  refused  to  listen 
to  you  at  the  chapel  of  Castle  Island. 

banmj  When  I  warned  ye  to  have  no  call  to  Eily  O'Connor  ? 

Hard  I  was  mad  to  marry  her. 

Danny  I  knew  she  was  no  wife  for  you.  A  poor  thing  widout  any 
manners,  or  money,  or  book  larnin*,  oraha'porth  o'  fortin'.  Oh, 
worra  !  I  told  ye  "that,  but  ye  bate  me  off,  and  here  now  is  the  way 
of  it. 

Hard  Well,  it's  done,  and  can't  be  undone. 

Danny  Bedad,  I  dun  know  that.  Wouldn't  she  untie  the  knot 
herself— couldn't  ye  coax  her  ? 

Hard  No. 

Dahuy  Is  that  her  love  for  you  ?  You  that  give  up  the  divil  an' 
all  for  her.  What's  Aer  ruin  to  yours?  Ruin — goredoutha — ruin  is 
it  ?  Don't  I  pluck  a  shamrock  and  wear  it  a  day  for  the  glory  of  St. 
Patrick,  and  then  throw  it  away  when  it's  gone  by  my  likin's.  What 
is  she,  to  be  ruined  by  a  gentleman  ?  Whoo  !  Mighty  good  for  the 
likes  o'  her. 

Hard  She  would  have  yielded,  but — 

Danny  Asy  now,  an'  I'll  tell  ye.  Pay  her  passage  out  to  Quaybeck 
and  put  her  aboord  a  three-master,  widout  sayin'  a  word.  Lave  it  to 
me.     Danny  will  clear  the  road  foreninst  ye. 

Hard  Fool,  if  she  still  possesses  that  certificate — the  proof  of  my 
first  marriage — how  can  I  dare  to  wed  another  ?  Commit  bigamy — 
disgrace  my  wife— bastardize  ray  children  ? 

Danny  Den  by  the  powers,  I'd  do  by  Eily  as  wid  the  glove  there 
on  yer  hand  ;  make  it  come  off  as  it  came  on — an'  if  it  fits  too  tight,  the  knife  to  it. 

Hard  [Taming  to  him.]  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Danny  Only  gi'  me  the  word,  an'  I'll  engage  that  the  Colleen Bawn 
will  never  trouble  ye  any  more  ;  don't  ax  me  any  questions  at  all. 
Only— if  you're  agreeable,  take  off  that  glove  from  yer  hand  an'  give 
it  to  me  for  a  token — that's  enough. 

Hard  [Throws  off  cloak;  seizes  him  ;  throws  him  doivn.]  Villain  !  Dare 
you  utter  a  word  or  meditate  a  thought  of  violence  towards  that 

Danny  Oh,  murder !  may  I  never  die  in  sin,  if — 

Hard  Begone  !  away,  at  once,  and  quit  my  sight.  I  have  chosen 
my  doom  !  I  must  learn  to  endure  it— but  blood ! — and  hers !  Shall 
I  make  cold  and  still  that  heart  that  beats  alone  for  me  ? — quench 
those  eyes  that  look  so  tenderly  in  mine  ?  Monster  1  am  I  so  vile 
that  you  dare  to  whisper  such  a  thought  ? 


Danny  Oh,  masther  I  divil  burn  me  if  I  meant  any  harm. 
Hard  Mark  me  well,  now.     Respect  my  wife  as  you  would   tha 
queen  of  the  land— whisper  a  word  such  as  those  you  uttered  to  me, 
and  it  will  be  your  last.     1  warn  ye — remember  and  obey. 

{Exit  Hardress,  r. 
Danny  [Rises— picks  up  cl<yik.']    Oh,  the  darlin'  craturo  !    would  I 
harrum  a  hair  of  her  blessed  head  ? — no  !     Not  unless  you  gave  me 
that  glove,  and  den  I'd  jump  into  the  bottomless  pit  for  ye. 

[Exit  Danny,  r.     Music— change. 

SCENE  II. — Room  in  Mrs.  Creqax's  house ;  window,  b.,  inflate  backed  by 
landscape;  door,  l.,  in  flat ;  backed  by  interior.     Lights  up. 

Enter  Anne  Chute,  l.  in  flat. 

Anne  That  fellow  runs  in  my  head.  [Looking  at  windoie.]  There  ho 
is  in  the  garden,  smoking  like  a  chimney-pot.     [Calls.]     Mr.  Daly ! 

Kyile  [Outside  window.]  Good  morning  ! 

Aime  [A^de.]  To  think  he'd  smile  that  way,  afler  going  Leandering 
all  night  like  a  dissipated  young  owl.  [Atoild.]  Did  you  sleep  well  t 
[Aside.]   Not  a  wink,  you  villain,  and  you  know  it. 

KyrU  I  slept  like  a  top. 

Anne  [Aside.]  I'd  like  to  have  the  whipping  of  ye.  [Aloud.]  When 
did  you  get  back  ? 

Kyrle  Get  back  !     I've  not  been  out. 

Anne  [Aside.]  He's  not  been  out !  This  is  what  men  come  to  after 
a  cruise  at  sea — they  get  sunburnt  with  love.  Tliose  foreign  donnas 
teach  tbem  to  make  fire-places  of  their  hearts,  and  chimney-pots  of 
their  mouths.  [Abud.]  What  are  you  doing  down  there  ?  [Aside.] 
As  if  he  was  stretched  out  to  dry.  [Kyrle  puts  down  pipe  outside. 

Enter  Kyrle  throujh  mndow,  r.,  in  flat. 

Kyrle  [r.  c]  I  have  been  watc'aing  Hardress  coming  over  from 
Divil's  Island  in  his  boat  -  the  wind  wtvs  dead  against  him. 

Anne  [l.  c]  It  was  fair  for  going  to  Divil's  Island  last  night,  I  be- 

Kyrle  Was  it  ? 

Anne  You  were  up  late,  I  think  ? 

Kyrle  I  was.  I  waiche  J  by  my  window  for  hours,  thinking  of  her 
I  loved — slumber  overtook  me,  and  I  dreamed  of  a  happiness  I  never 
can  hope  for. 

Anne  Look  me  straight  in  the  face. 

Kyrle  Oh  !  if  some  fairy  could  strike  us  into  stone  now — and  leave 
us  looking  forever  into  each  others  faces,  like  the  blue  lake  below 
and  the  sky  above  it ! 

Anne  Kyrle  Daly  !  What  would  you  say  to  a  man  who  had  two 
loves,  one  to  whom  he  escaped  ut  niqht,  and  the  other  to  whom  he 
devoted  himself  during  the  day — what  would  you  say  f 

Ky^le  I'd  say  he  hacl  no  chance. 

x\nne  Oh,  Captain  Cautious  !  Well  answered.  Isn't  he  fit  to  take 
care  of  anybody  !  his  cradle  was  cut  out  of  a  witness-box. 

Enter  Hardress  through  trindow^  b.,  in  flat. 

Kyrle  [r.]  Anne !  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  but  that  I  know 
that  I  love  you,  and  you  are  sporting  with  a  wretchedneas  you  can 


not  console.  I  was  wrong  to  remain  here  so  long,  but  I  thought  my 
friendship  for  Hardress  would  protect  me  against  your  invasion — now 
I  will  go.  [Hardress  advancing. 

Hard  [c]  No,  Kyrle,  you  will  stay.  Anne,  he  loves  you,  aad  I 
more  than  suspect  you  prefer  him  to  mo.  From  this  moment  you 
9,re  free  ;  I  release  you  from  all  troth  tome:  in  his  presence  I  do  this. 

Anne  [l.]  Hardress ! 

Hard  There  is  a  bar  between  us  which  you  should  have  known  be- 
fore, but  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  confers.  Forgive  me,  Anne — 
you  deserve  a  better  man  than  I  am.  [Exit^  l. 

Anne  A  bar  between  us  !     What  does  he  mean  ? 

Ki/rle  He  means  that  he  is  on  the  verge  of  ruin:  he  did  not  know 
how  bad  things  were  till  last  night.  His  generous  noble  heart  re- 
coils from  receiving  anything  from  you  but  love. 

Anne  And  does  he  think  I'd  let  him  be  ruined  any  way  ?  Does  he 
think  I  wouldn't  sell  the  last  rood  of  land — the  gown  off  my  back, 
and  the  hair  off  my  head,  before  that  boy  that  protected  and  loved 
me,  the  child,  years  ago,  should  come  to  a  hap'orth  of  harrum  ? 

[Oros.'ses  to  r. 

Ki/rle  Miss  Chute  ! 

Anne  Well,  J  can't  help  it.  When  I  am  angry  the  brogue  comes 
out,  and  my  Irish  heart  will  burst  through  manners,  and  graces,  and 
twenty  stay-laces.  [Crosses  to  l.]  I'll  give  up  my  fortune — that  I 

Kyrle  You  can't — you've  got  a  guardian  who  can  not- consent  to 
such  a  sacrifice. 

Anne  Have  I  ?  then  I'll  find  a  husband  that  will. 

Ki/rle  [Aside.]  She  means  me— 1  see  it  her  eyes. 

Anne  [Aside.]  He's  trying  to  look  unconscious.  [Aloud.]  Kyrle 
Daly,  on  your  honor  and  word  as  a  gentleman,  do  you  love  me  and 
nobody  else  ? 

Kyrle  Do  you  think  me  capable  of  contaminafcing  your  image  by 
admitting  a  meaner  passion  into  my  breast  ? 

Anne  Yes,  I  do. 

Kjrle  Then  you  wrong  me. 

Anne  I'll  prove  that  in  one  word.     Take  care,  now  ;  it's  coming. 

Kyrle  Go  on. 

Anne  [Aside.]  Now  I'll  astonish  him.     [Aloud.]    Eily  ! 

Kyrle  What's  that  ? 

Anne  "Shule,  shule,  agrahl" 

Kyrle  Where  to  ? 

Anne  Three  winks,  as  much  as  to  say,  **  Are  you  coming  ?"  and  an 
extinguisher  above  here  means  "Yes."  Now  you  see  I  know  all 
about  it. 

Kyrle  You  have  the  advantage  of  me. 

Anne  Confess  now,  and  I'll  forgive  you. 

Kyrle  I  will ;  tell  me  what  to  confess,  and  I'll  confess  it — I  don't 
care  what  it  is. 

Anne  [Aside.]  If  I  hadn't  eye  proof  he  brazen  it  out  of  me.  Isn't 
he  cunning?  He's  one  of  those  that  would  get  fat  where  a  fox  would 

Kyrle  That  was  a  little  excursion  into  my  past  life— a  siTdden  de- 
scent on  my  antecedents,  to  see  if  you  could  not  surprise  an  infidelity 
—but  1  de^  you. 


Anne  Yon  do?  I  accept  that  defiance  ;  and,  mind  me,  Kyrle,  if  I 
find  you  true  as  I  once  thought,  there's  my  hand  ;  but  if  you  are 
false  in  this,  Anne  Chute  will  never  change  her  name  for  yours.  [He 
kisses  her  fiand.]     Tjcave  me  now. 

Ki/rle  Oh,  the  lightness  you  have  given  to  my  heart !  The  number 
of  pipes  I'll  smoke  this  afternoon  will  make  them  think  we've  got  a 
haystack  on  fire.  [£/!/  Kyrle,  throtujh  mndow^  e. 

Anne  [Rings  bell  on  table,  r.]  Here,  Pat,  Biirney,  some  one. 

£nf^r  Servant,  l.  door  in  flat. 

Tell  Larry  Dolan,  my  groom,  to  saddle  the  black  mare.  Fireball,  but 
not  bring  her  round  the  house— I'll  mount  in  the  stables. 

[Exit  Servant,  l.  door  in  flat. 
I'll  ride  over  to  Muckross  Head,  and  draw  that  cottage  ;  I'll  know 
what's  there.  It  mayn't  be  right,  but  I  haven't  a  big  brother  to  see 
after  me— and  self-protection  is  the  first  law  of  nature. 

[Exit  Anne,  r.  1  b. 

Music.    Enter  Mrs.  Ceeoan  and  Hardress,  l.  door  in  flat 

Mrs.  C  [r.  c]  What  do  you  say,  Hardress? 

Hard  [l.  c.l  I  say,  mother,  tliat  my  heart  and  faith  are  both  al- 
ready pledgee!  to  another,  and  I  can  not  break  my  engagement. 

Mrs.  C  And  this  is  the  end  of  all  our  pride  ! 

Hfird  Repining  is  useleEs— thought  and  contrivance  are  of  no  avail 
— the  die  is  cast. 

Mrs.  C  Hardress,  I  speak  not  for  myself,  but  for  you — and  I  would 
rather  see  you  in  your  coffin  than  married  to  this  poor,  lowborn,  silly, 
vulgar  creature.  I  know  you,  my  son  ;  you  will  be  miserable  when 
the  infatuation  of  firet  love  is  past ;  when  you  turn  from  her  and  face 
the  world,  as  one  day  you  must  do,  you  will  blush  to  say,  "  This  is 
my  wife."  Every  word  from  her  mouth  will  be  a  pang  to  your  pride. 
You  will  follow  her  movements  with  terror— the  contempt  and  deri- 
sion she  excites  will  rouse  you  first  to  remorse,  and  then  to  hatred — 
and  from  the  bed  to  which  you  go  with  a  blessing,  you  will  rise  with 
a  curse. 

Bard  Mother  !   mother !  [Thrmts  himself  in  chair. 

Mrs,  C  To  Anne  you  have  acted  a  heartless  and  dishonorable  part — 
her  name  is  already  coupled  with  yours  at  every  fireside  in  Kerry. 

Enter  Servant,  l.  door  in  flat. 

Serv  Mr,  Corrigan,  ma'am. 

Mrs.  0  He  comes  for  his  answer.     Show  him  in. 

[Exit  Servant,  l.  door  in  flat. 
Tlie  hour  has  come,  Hardress — what  answer  shall  I  give  him  ? 

Hard  Refuse  him— let  him  do  his  worst. 

Mrs.  0  And  face  begcrary  !  On  what  shall  wo  live  ?  I  tell  you  the 
prison  for  debt  is  open  before  us.  Can  you  work  ?  No  !  Will  you 
enlist  as  a  soldier,  and  serd  your  wife  into  service  ?  We  arc  ruined — 
d'ye  hear?  -ruined  !  I  must  accept  this  man  only  to  give  you  and 
yours  a  shelter,  and  under  Corrigan' s  roof  I  may  not  be  ashamed, 
perhaps,  to  receive  your  wife. 

JSnter  Servant,  showing  in  Mr.  CorrigaNi  l.  door  infOL 


Corrig  [l.]  Good  morning,  ma'am;  I  am  punctual,  you  perceive . 

Mrs.  C  .[c]  We  have  considered  your  offer,  sir,  and  we  see  no  alter- 
native— b  ut — but — 

Corrig  Mrs.  Cregan,  I'm  proud,  ma'am,  to  take  your  hand. 

Hard  [Starting  up.}  Begone— begone,  I  say  ;  touch  her,  and  I'll 
brain  you ! 

Corrig  Squire  !  Sir  !  Mr.  Hardress  ! 

Hard  Must  I  hurl  you  from  the  house  ? 

Enter  two  Servants,  door  in  flat. 

Mrs,  C  Hardress,  my  darling  boy,  restrain  yourself. 

Corrig  Good  morning,  ma'am.  I  have  my  answer,  [lo  Servant.] 
Is  Miss  Chute  within  ? 

Serv  No,  sir  ;  she's  just  galloped  out  of  the  stable  yard. 

Corng  Say  I  called  to  see  her.  I  will  wait  upon  her  at  this  hour 
to-morrow.     [Looking  at  the  Cregans.]     To-morrow  !  to-morrow  ! 

[Exit,  follotved  by  Servants,  l.  door  in  flat. 

Mrs.  C  To-morrow  will  see  us  in  Limerick  Jail,  and  this  house  in 
the  hands  of  the  sheriff. 

Hard  Mother,  heaven  guide  and  defend  me !  let  me  rest  for  a  while 
— you  don't  know  all  yet,  and  I  have  not  the  heart  to  tell  you. 

[Crosses  L. 

Mrs.  C  With  you,  Hardress,  I  can  bear  anything — anything — but 
your  humiliation  and  your  unhappiness — 

Hard  I  know  it,  mother,  I  know  it.  [Exit,  l.  1  e.     Music, 

Danny  appears  at  window,  r.,  in  flat. 

Danny  Whisht  — missiz — whisht. 

Mrs.  C  [l.  c]  Who's  there? 

Danny  It's  me,  sure,  Danny — that  is — I  know  the  throuble  that's 
in  it.     I've  been  through  it  all  wid  him. 

Mrs.  C  You  know,  then  ? 

Danny  Everything,  ma'am  ;  and,  sure,  I  shtruv  hard  and  long  to 
impache  him  from  doing  it. 

Mrs.  C  Is  he,  indeed,  bo  involved  with  this  girl  that  he  will  not 
give  her  up? 

Danny  No  ;  he's  got  over  the  worst  of  it,  but  she  holds  him  tight, 
and  he  feels  kindly  and  soft-hearted  for  her,  and  daren't  do  what 
another  would. 

Mrs.  C  Dare  not? 

Danny  Sure  she  might  be  packed  off  across  the  wather  to  Ameriky, 
or  them  parts  beyant  ?  Who'd  ever  ax  a  word  afther  her  ? — ^barrin' 
the  masther,  who'd  murdher  me  if  he  knew  I  whispered  such  a 

3Irs.  C  But  would  she  go  ? 

Danny  Ow,  ma'am,  wid  a  taste  of  persuasion,  we'd  mulvather  her 
aboord.  But  there's  another  way  again,  and  if  ye'd  only  coax  the 
masther  to  send  me  his  glove,  he'd  know  the  manin'  ot  that  token, 
and  so  would  I. 

Mrs.  C  His  glove  ? 

Danny  Sorra  a  ha'porth  else.  If  he'll  do  that,  I'll  take  my  oath 
ye' 11  hear  no  more  of  the  Colleen  Bawn. 

Mrs.  G  I'll  see  my  son.  [Exit  l.  d.  f.. 

Danny  Tare  an'  'ouns,  that  lively  girl,  Mis&  Ghute,  has  ^one  the 


road  to  Muckross  Head  ;  I've  watched  her — I've  got  my  eye  on  all 
of  them.  If  she  sees  Eily — ow,  o\v,  she'llget  the  ring  itself  in  that 
helpin'  maybe,  of  kale-canon.  By  the  piper,  I'll  run  across  the  lake, 
and  get  there  first ;  she's  got  a  long  round  to  go,  and  the  wind 
rising — a  purty  blast  entirely. 

[Goes  to  window — Music, 

Be-entar  Mb8.  Cbeqan,  l.  d.  f.,  unlh  glove. 

Mrs.  C  {Aside  ]  I  found  hia  gloves  in  the  hall,  where  he  had  thrown 
them  in  his  hat. 

Danny  Did  ye  ax  him,  ma'am  ? 

Mrs,  C  I  did — and  here  is  the  reply.  \Holdt  out  glove. 

Danny  He  has  changed  his  mind,  then  ? 

Mrs.  C  He  has  entirely. 

Danny  And— and — I  am— to — do  it  ? 

Mrs.  C  That  is  the  token. 

Danny  I  know  it — I'll  keep  my  promise.  I'm  to  make  away  with 

Mrs.  O  Yes,  yes— take  her  away— away  with  her  ! 

[Exit  Mrs.  Cregan,  l.  door  in  flat. 

Danny  Never  fear,  ma'am.  [Going  to  window.]  He  shall  never 
see  or  hear  again  of  the  Colleen  Bawn. 

[Exit  Danny  through  window — change. 

SCENE  m,— Exterior  of  Eily's  Cb«*;«;   Cottage,  b.  8.  k.  ;   set  jnecea, 
backed  by  Lake  ;  table  and  two  aeats,  B.  c. 

Sheet. An  and  Eily  discovered^  knitting. 

Shedah  [r.]  Don't  cry,  darlin'— don't,  alanna  I 

Eily  [l.]  He'll  never  come  back  to  me — I'll  never  see  him  again, 
Sheelah ! 

Sheelah  Is  it  lave  his  own  wife  ? 

Eily  I've  sent  him  a  letther  by  Myles,  and  Myles  has  never  come 
back — I've  got  no  answer — he  won't  spake  to  me — I  am  standin' 
betune  him  and  fortune — I'm  in  the  way  of  his  happiness.  I  wish  I 
was  dead  ! 

Sheelih  Whisht !  be  theehusht !  what  talk  is  that?  when  I'm  tuk 
sad  that  way,  I  go  down  to  the  chapel  and  pray  a  turn— it  lifts  the 
cloud  off  my  heart. 

Edy  I  can't  pray ;  I've  tried,  but  unless  I  pray  for  him,  I  can't 
bring  my  mind  to  it. 

Sheelah  I  never  saw  a  colleen  that  loved  as  you  love  ;  sorra  come 
to  me,  but  1  b'lieve  you've  got  enough  to  supply  all  Munster,  and 
more  left  than  would  choke  ye  if  you  wern't  azcd  of  it. 

Edy  He'll  come  back — I'm  sure  he  will  ;  I  was  wicked  to  doubt. 
Oh  !  Sheelah  !  what  becomes  of  the  girls  he  doesn't  love  ?  Is  there 
anything  goin'  on  in  the  world  where  he  isn't .' 

Sheelah  There  now— you're  smilin'  Pgain. 

Eily  I'm  like  the  first  morr^in'  when  he  met  me — there  was  dew 
on  the  young  day's  eye— a  smile  on  the  lipj  o'  the  lake.  Hardress 
will  come  back — oh  !  yes  ;  he'll  never  leave  his  poor  Eily  all  alone 
by  herself  in  this  place.    Whisht,  now,  an'  I'll  tell  you.       [Mtuic. 


Song. — Air  J  **  PreUy  Girl  Milking  her  C&w,** 

'Twas  on  a  bright  morning  in  summer, 

I  first  heard  his  voice  speaking  low, 
As  he  said  to  a  colleen  beside  me, 

"  Who's  that  pretty  girl  milking  her  cow  V* 
And  many  times  after  he  met  me, 

And  vowed  that  I  always  should  be 
His  own  little  darling  alanna, 

Mavourneen  a  sweelish  machree. 

I  haven't  the  manners  or  graces 

Of  the  girls  in  tSe  world  where  ye  move, 
I  haven't  their  beautiful  faces, 

But  I  have  a  heart  that  can  love. 
If  it  plase  ye,  I'll  dress  in  satins. 

And  jewels  I'll  put  on  my  brow, 
But  don't  ye  be  after  forgettin' 

Your  pretty  girl  milking  her  cow. 

Sheelah  Ah,  the  birds  sit  still  on  the  boughs  to  listen  to  her,  ani 
the  trees  stop  whisperin'  ;  she  leaves  a  mighty  big  silence  behind  her 
voice,  that  nothin'  in  nature  wants  to  break.  My  blessin'  on  the 
path  before  her — there's  an  angel  at  the  other  end  of  it. 

[Exit  Sheelah  in  cottage^  b. 
Mlg  [Repeats  last  line  of  song."] 

Enter  Anne  Chute,  l.  u.  e. 

Anne  There  she  is. 

Eily  [Sings  till  facing  Anne — stops— thei/  examine  each  other. "] 

Anne  My  name  is  Anne  Chute. 

Eily  I  am  Eily  O'Connor. 

Anne  You  are  the  Colleen  Bawn — the  pretty  girl. 

Eily  And  you  are  the  Colleen  Ruaidh. 

An7ie  [Aside.]  She  is  beautiful. 

Eily  [Aside.]  How  lovely  she  is. 

AtJne  We  are  rivals. 

Eily  I  am  sorry  for  it. 

Anne  So  am  T,  for  1  feel  that  I  could  have  loved  you. 

Eily  That's  always  the  way  of  it;  everybody  wants  to  love  mo, 
but  tiiere's  something  spoils  them  off. 

Anne  [Showing  letter.]     Do  you  know  that  writing  ? 

Eily  I  do,  ma'am,  well,  though  I  don't  know  how  you  came 
by  it. 

Anne  I  saw  your  signals  last  night— I  saw  his  departure,  and  I 
have  come  here  to  convince  myself  of  his  falsehood  to  me.     But  now 
that  I  have  seen  you,  you  bave  no  longer  a  rival  in  his  love,  for  I 
despise  him  with  all  my  heart,  who  could  bring  one  so  beautiful  and  ' 
simple  as  you  are  to  ruin  and  shame  ! 

Eily  He  didn't — no — I  am  his  wife  I    Oh,  what  have  I  said  ! 

Anne  Whatf 

Eily  Oh,  I  didn't  mane  to  confess  it— no,  I  didn't !  tut  you  wrung 
it  from  me  in  defense  of  him. 

Arme.  You  hia  wife  ? 


Enter  Dan^'Y,  l.  u.  b. 

Danny  {At  hach—aside.'\  The  diyll !  they're  at  it— an*  I'm  too 

Anne  I  can  not  believe  this— show  me  your  certificate. 

Eily  Here  it  is. 

Danny  [Advances  between  them.']  Didn't  you  swear  to  the  priest  that 
it  should  nivcr  lave  your  breast  ? 

Anne  Oh  !  you're  the  boatman. 

Danny  Iss,  ma'am  ! 

Anne  Eily,  forgive  me  for  doubting  your  goodness,  and  your  purity. 
I  believe  you.  Let  me  take  your  hand.  [Crosses  to  her,]  While  the 
heart  of  Anne  Chute  l)eats,  you  have  a  friend  that  won't  be  spoiled 
off,  but  you  have  no  longer  a  rival,  mind  that.  All  I  ask  of  you  is 
that  you  will  never  mention  this  visit  to  Mr.  Daly — and  for  you  [To 
Danny]  this  will  purchase  your  silence.     [Gives  money.]     Good-byl 

[Exit  Anne,  l.  u.  b. 

Z^flrwTzy  Long  life  t' ye.  [Aside.']  What  does  it  mane  ?  Hasn't  she 
found  me  out? 

Eily  Why  did  she  ask  me  never  to  spake  to  Mr.  Daly  of  her  visit 
here  t    Sure  I  don't  know  any  Mr.  Daly. 

Danny  Didn't  she  spake  of  him  before,  dear  ? 

Eily  Never ! 

Danny  Nor  didn't  she  name  Master  Hardress? 

Eily  Well,  I  don't  know  ;  she  Fpoke  of  him  and  of  the  letter  I 
wrote  to  him,  but  I  b'lieve  she  never  named  him  intirely. 

Danny  [Aside.]  The  divil's  in  it  for  sport ;  she's  got  'em  mixed 

Enter  Sheelah  from  cottage,  B. 

Shedah  What  brings  you  back,  Danny? 

Danny  Nothing !  but  a  word  I  have  from  the  masther  for  the  Col- 
leen here. 

Eily  Is  it  the  answer  to  the  letter  I  sent  by  Myles  ? 

Danny  1  hat's  it,  jewel,  he  sent  me  wid  a  message. 

Sheelah  [c]  S<;methin'  bad  has  happened..  Danny,  you  are  as 
pale  as  milk,  and  your  eye  is  full  of  blood — yez  been  drinkin'. 

D./Twy  May  be  I  have. 

Sheelah  YOu  thrimble,  and  can't  spake  straight  to  me.  Oh !  Dan- 
ny, what  is  il ,  avick  ? 

Danny  Go  on  now,  an'  stop  yer  kccnin' . 

Eily  Faith,  it  isn't  yourself  that's  in  it,  Danny;  sure  there's 
nothing  happened  to  Hardress  ? 

Danny  Divil  a  word,  good  or  bad,  I'll  say  while  the  mother's 

Sheelah  I'm  goin*.  [Aside.]  What's  come  to  Danny  this  day,  at 
all,  at  all ;  bedad,  I  don't  know  my  own  flesh  and  blood. 

[Runs  into  cottage. 

Danny  Sorro'  and  ruin  has  come  on  the  Cregans ;  they're  broke 

Eily  Oh,  Danny. 

Danny  Whisht,  now !  You  are  to  meet  Masther  Hardress  this 
evenin',  at  a  place  on  the  Divil's  Island,  btyant.  Yo'll  niver 
breathe  a  word  to  a  mortal  where  yer  goin',  d'ye  mind,  now ;  but 

COLLEEN  BAWN.  '  26 

Slip  down,  unbeknown,  to  the  landin'  below,  where  I'll  have  the 
boat  waitin*  for  yez. 

Eily  At  what  hour  ? 

Danny  Just  after  dark;  there's  no  moon  to-night,  an'  no  one  will 
see  us  crossin'  the  water.  \Mudc  till  end  of  scene. 

Eily  I  will  be  there  ;  I'll  go  down  only  to  the  little  chapel  by  the 
shore,  and  pray  there  'till  ye  come.  [Exit  Eily,  into  cottage,  e. 

Danny  I'm  wake  and  cowld  !     What's  this  come  over  me?    Moth- 
er, mother,  acushla. 

Enter  Sheelah,  r. 

Sheelah  What  is  it,  Danny  ? 

Danny.  [Staggering  to  table.']  Give  me  a  glass  of  spirits ! 

[Falls  in  chair — Change  quicMy. 

SCENE  IV. — The  old  Weir  Bridge,  or  a   Wood  on  the  verge  of  the  Lake — 

[1st  grooves.] 

Enter  Anne  Chute,  r. 

Anne  Married!   the  wretch  is  married  !  and  with  that  crime  al- 
ready on  his  conscience  he  was  ready  for  another  and  similar  piece  of 
villainy.     It's  the  Navy  that  does  it.     It's  my  belief  those  sailora 
have  a  wife  in  every  place  they  stop  at. 
Myles  [Sings  outside,  R.] 

"  Oh !  Eily  astoir,  my  love  is  all  crost, 
Like  a  bud  in  the  frost.*' 
Anne  Here's  a  gentleman  who  has  got  my  complaint — his  love  is 
all  crost,  like  a  bud  in  the  frost. 

Enter  Myles,  r. 
Myles  ''  And  there's  no  use  at  all  in  my  goin'  to  bed, 

For  it's  drames,  and  not  sleep,  that  comes  into  my  head, 
And  it's  all  about  you,"  etc.,  etc. 
Anne  My  good  friend,  since  you  can't  catch  your  love,  d'ye  think 
you  could  catch  my  horse  ?  [Distant  thunder. 

Myles  Is  it  a  black  mare  wid  a  white  stockin  on  the  fore  off  leg  ? 
Anne  1  dismounted  to  unhook  a  gate — a  peal  of  thunder  frightened 
her,  and  she  broke  aWay. 

Myles  She's  at  Tore  Cregan  stables  by  this  time — it  was  an  admi- 
ration to  watch  her  stride  across  the  Phil  Dolan's  bit  of  plough. 

Anne  And  how  am  I  to  get  home  ? 
\     Myles  If  I  had  four  legs,  I  wouldn't  ax  betther  than  to  carry  ye, 
and  a  proud  baste  I'd  be.  [Thunder — rain. 

Anne  The  storm  is*^  coming  down  to  the  mountain — is  there  no 
shelter  near  ? 

Myles  There  may  be  a  comer  in  this  ould  chapel.    [Rain.]  Here 
comes  the  rain— murdher !  ye' 11  be  wet  through. 
[Music— pulls  of  coat.]  Put  this  round  yez. 
Anne  What  will  you  do  ?    You'll  catch  your  death  of  cold. 
3Iyles  [Talcing  out  bottle.]  Cowld  is  it  ?  Here's  a  wardrobe  of  top  coats. 
[Thunder.]  Whoo  !  this  is  a  tine  time  for  the  water— this  way,  ma'am. 

[Exeunt  Myles  and  Anne,  l. 
Enter  Eily,  cloak  and  hood,  r. 
Ei!y.  Here's  the  place  where  Danny  was  to  meet  me  with  the  boat. 
Oh  I  here  he  is. 


Eiiier  Danny,  l. 

How  pale  you  are ! 

Danny  The  thunder  makes  me  Bick. 

Eily  Shall  we  not  wait  till  the  storm  ia  over  ? 

Danny  If  it  comes  on  bad  we  can  put  into  the  Divil's  Island  Cave. 

Eily  I  feel  so  happy  that  I  am  going  to  see  him,  yet  there  is  a 
weight  about  my  heart  that  I  can't  account  for. 

Danny  I  can.   [Aside.]  Are  you  ready  now? 

Eily  Yes;  come — come. 

Danny  [Staggering  ]  I'm  wake  yet.  My  throat  is  dry — if  I'd  a 
draught  of  whisky  now. 

EUy  Sheelah  gave  you  a  bottle. 

Danny   I  forgot — it's  in  the  boat.  [Rain, 

Eily  Here  comes  the  rain — wc  shall  get  wet. 

Danny  There's  the  masther's  boat  cloak  below. 

Edy  Come,  Danny,  lean  on  me.  I'm  afraid  you  are  not  sober 
enough  to  sail  the  skiff. 

Dajwy  Sober!  The  dhnmker  I  am,  the  better  I  can  do  the  work 
I've  got  to  do. 

Eily  Come,  Danny,  come— come. 

[Exeunt  Eily  and  Danny,  b. — Music  ceases. 

Re-enter  Anne  Chute  and  Mylbs,  l. 

Myles  It  was  only  a  shower,  I  b'lieve — are  ye  wet,  ma'am? 
Anfie.  Dry  as  a  biscuit. 

Myles  Ah !  then  it's  yerself  is  the  brave  and  beautiful  lady — as 
bould  an'  proud  as  a  ship  before  the  blast.  [Anne  looks  off^  r. 

Anne  Why,  there  is  my  mare,  and  who  comes  with — [Crosses  ton, 
Myles  It's  Mr.  Hardress  Cregan  himself. 
Anne  Hardresd  here  ? 
MyUs  Eily  gave  me  a  letter  for  him  this  morning. 

Enter  Habdbess,  b. 

Hard  Anne,  what  has  happened?  Your  horse  galloped  wildly 
into  the  stable — we  thought  you  had  been  thrown. 

Myles  Here  is  a  lether  Eily  tould  me  to  give  him.  [To  Hardress.]  I 
beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  here's  the  taste  of  a  lether  I  was  axed  to 
give  your  honor.  [Gives  letter. 

Bard  [Aside.]  From  Eily  ! 

Anne  llianks,  my  good  fellow,  for  your  assistance. 

Myles  Not  at  all,  ma'am.  Sure,  there  isn't  a  boy  in  the  County 
Kerry  that  would  not  give  two  thumbs  off  his  hands  to  do  a  service 
to  the  Colleen  Ruaidh,  as  you  are  called  among  us — iss  indeed,  ma'am. 
[Going — asule.]  Ah !  then  it's  the  purty  gill  she  is,  in  them  long 
clothes.  [Exit  Myles,  r. 

Hird  [Reads,  aside.]  *'  I  am  the  cause  of  your  ruin  ;  I  can't  live 
with  that  thought  killin'  me.  If  I  do  not  see  you  before  night  you 
will  never  again  be  throubled  with  your  poor  Eily."  Little  simple* 
ton !  she  is  capable  of  doing  herself  an  injury. 

Anne  Hardress !  I  have  been  very  blind  and  very  foolish,  but  to- 
day I  have  learned  to  know  my  ovm  heart.  There's  my  hand ;  I 
wiah  to  seal  my  fate  at  once.     I  know  the  delicacy  which  prompted 



you  to  release  me  from  my  engagement  to  you.  I  don't  accept  that 
release  ;  I  am  yours. 

Hard  Anne,  you  don't  know  all. 

Anne  I  know  more  than  I  wanted,  that's  enough.  I  forbid  you 
ever  to  speak  on  this  subject. 

Hard  You  don't  know  my  past  life. 

Anne  And  I  don't  want  to  know.  I've  had  enough  of  looking  into 
past  lives  ;  don't  tell  me  anything  you  wish  to  forget. 

Hard  Oh,  Anne — my  dear  cousin  ;  if  I  could  forget — if  silence 
could  be  oblivion.  \Exeurvt  Hardress  and  Anne,  l. 

SCENE  Y.~Exteri(yr  of  Myles'  Hut.  [Ist  grom)es.'\ 

Enter  Myles,  r  . ,  singing  * '  Brian  0'  Linn. ' ' 

*'  Brian  O'Linn  had  no  breeches  to  wear, 
So  he  bought  him  a  sheepskin  to  make  him  a  pair ; 
The  skinny  side  out,  the  woolly  side  in, 
*They  are  cool  and  convanient,'  said  Brian  O'Linn." 

[Lochs  door  of  cabin.']  Now  I'll  go  down  to  my  whisky-still.  It  is 
under  my  feet  this  minute,  bein'  in  a  hole  in  the  rocks  they  call 
O'Donoghue's  stables,  a  sort  of  water  cave  ;  the  people  around  here 
think  that  the  cave  is  haunted  with  bad  spirits,  and  they  say  that  of 
a  dark  stormy  night  strange  unearthly  noises  is  heard  comin'  out  of 
it— it  is  me  singing,  ' '  The  night  before  Larry  was  stretched. ' '  Now 
I'll  go  down  to  that  cave,  and  wid  a  sod  of  live  turf  under  a  kettle  of 
worty,  I'll  invoke  them  sperrits — and  what's  more,  they'll  come. 
{Exit  Mylys,  singing y  r.    Music  till  Myles  begins  to  speak  next  scene, 

BCEINE  VI. — A  Cave ;  through  large  opening  at  bach  is  seen  the  Lahe  and 
the  Moon  ;  rocks  r.  arid  l. — flat  roch,  R.  c.  ;  gauge  waters  all  over  stage  ; 
rope  hanging  from  c,  hitched  on  mng,  r.  u.  e. 

Enter  Myles,  singing,  top  of  roch,  R.  u.  E. 

Myles  And  this  is  a  purty  night  for  my  work  !  The  smoke  of  my 
whisky-still  will  not  be  seen  ;  there's  my  distillery  beyant  in  a  snug 
hole  up  there,  [Unfastens  rope,  L.]  and  here's  my  bridge  to  cross  over 
to  it.  I  think  it  would  puzzle  a  ganger  to  folly  me  ;  this  is  a  patent 
of  my  own — a  tight-rope  bridge.  [Swings  across  from  r.  to  l.]  Now  I  tie 
up  my  drawbridge  at  this  side  till  I  want  to  go  back — what's  that 
— it  was  an  otter  I  woke  from  a  nap  he  was  takin'  on  that  bit  of  rock 
there — ow!  ye  divil !  if  I  had  my  gun  I'd  give  ye  a  leaden  supper. 
I'll  go  up  and  load  it,  may  be  I'll  get  a  shot ;  them  stones  is  the 
place  where  they  lie  out  of  a  night,  and  many  a  one  I've  shot  of  them. 

[Music. — Disappears  up  rock,  l.  u.  e. 

Eily  What  place  is  this  you  have  brought  me  to  ? 

Danny  Never  fear — I  know  where  I'm  goin' — step  out  on  that  rock 
— miad  yer  footin';  'tis  wet  there. 

Eily  I  don't  like  this  place — it's  like  a  tomb. 

Danny  Step  out,  I  say  ;  the  boat  is  laking. 

[Eily  steps  on  to  rockf  E.  0. 

Mly  Why  do  you  spake  to  me  so  rough  and  cruel  ? 


Danny  Eily,  I  have  a  word  to  say  t'ye  ;  listen  now,  and  don't  trim- 
ble  that  way. 

Eily  I  won't,  Danny — I  won't. 

Danny  Wonst,  Eily,  I  was  a  fine  brave  boy,  the  pride  of  my  ould 
mother,  her  white  haired-darlin' — you  wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at 
me  now.     D'ye  know  how  I  got  changed  to  thLi  ? 

Eily  Yes,  Hardress  told  me. 

Danny  He  done  it— but  I  loved  him  before  it,  an'  I  loved  hira  af- 
ter it— not  a  dhrop  of  blood  I  have,  but  I'd  pour  out  like  wather  for 
the  masther. 

Eily  I  know  what  you  mean— as  he  has  deformed  your  body- 
ruined  your  life — made  ye  what  ye  are. 

Danny  Have  you,  a  woman,  less  love  for  hira  than  I,  that  you 
wouldn't  give  him  what  he  wants  of  you,  even  if  he  broke  your  heart 
as  he  broke  my  back,  both  in  a  moment  of  pission?  Did  I  ax  him  to 
ruin  himself  and  his  ould  family,  and  all  to  mend  my  bones  ?  No  ! 
I  loved  him,  and  I  forgave  him  that. 

Eily  Danny,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do  ? 

[Danxy  steps  out  on  to  rock. 

Danny  Give  me  that  paper  in  your  breast  ? 

[Boat  floats  cff  slowly,  B. 

Eily  I  can't — I've  sworn  never  to  part  with  it !  You  know  I  have! 

Danny  Eily,  that  paper  stands  between  Hardress  Cregan  and  his 
fortune  ;  that  paper  is  the  ruin  of  him.     Give  it,  I  tell  yez. 

Eily  Take  me  to  the  priest  ;  let  him  lift  the  oath  oflf  me.  Oh, 
Danny,  I  swore  a  blessed  oath  on  my  two  knees,  and  would  ye  ax  me 
to  break  that  ? 

Danny  [Seizes  her  hands '\  Give  it  up,  and  don't  make  me  hurt  ye. 

Ely  I  swore  -by  my  mother's  grave,  Danny.  Oh !  Danny  dear, 
don't.  Don't,  acushla,  and  I'll  do  anything.  See  now,  what  good 
would  it  be  ?  sure,  while  I  live  I'm  his  wife.  [Music  changes. 

Danny  Then  you've  lived  too  long.  Take  your  marriage  lines  wid 
ye  to  the  bottom  of  the  lake. 

[He  throws  her  from  rock  backwards  into  the  water  ^  l.  C,  loiih  aery;  she  re* 
appears,  dinging  to  rock. 

Eily  No  !  save  me  !  Don't  kill  me  I  Don't,  Danny,  I'll  do  aDy- 
thing — only  let  me  live. 

Danny  He  wants  ye  dead.  [Pushes  her  off. 

Eily  Oh,  heaven  !  help  me !     Danny — Dan —  [Sinks, 

Danny  [Looking  down.]  I've  done  it — she's  gone. 

[Shot  is  fired,  l.  u.  e.;  he  falls — rolls  from  the  rock  into  the  water,  a.  0. 

Myles  appears  vriih  gun,  on  rock,  l.  u.  e. 

Myles  I  hit  one  of  them  bastes  that  time.  I  could  see  well,  though 
it  was  80  dark.  But  there  was  somethin'  moving  on  that  stone. 
[Swings  across  to  r.  u.  e.]  Divil  a  sign  of  him.  Stop  !  [Looks  doum.] 
What's  this?  It's  a  woman — there's  something  white  there.  [Fig^ 
ure  rises  near  rock,  r.  u.  e.  ;  kneels  down;  tries  to  take  Vie  Jiand  of  figure.] 
Ah  !  that  dress  ! — it's  Eily.  My  o>vn  darlin'  Eily. 
[Pulls  off  waistcoot^umps  off  rock.  Eily  rises,  B.;  then  Myles  and  EiLY 
rise  up,  c. ;  he  tumSf  and  seizes  rock,  b.  c.  ;  Eily  across  l^  am. 




SCENE  I. — lUerior  of  an  Irish  hut  ;  door  and  small  opening^  E.  0.     Door 
L.  c.  in  flat. 

Truclde  led  and  bedding,  r.  c.  ,  on  which  Danny  Mann  is  discovered ;  table 
with  jug  of  water  ;  lighted  candle  stuck  in  bottle,  l.  ;  two  stools— ^B^iELKO. 
at  table,  L.     Music. 

Danny  [In  his  sleep.']  Gi'  me  the  paper,  thin — Screeching  won't  save 
ye — down— down  !     [TFa^fs.]     Oh,  mother!  darlin' mother  I 

Sheelah   [  Waking.']  Eh  !  did  ye  call  me,  Danny  ? 

Danny  Gi'  me  a  dhrop  of  wather — it's  the  thirst  that's  a  killiu' 

Sheelah  [Takes  jug.]  The  fever's  on  ye  mighty  bad. 

Danny  [Drinks,  falls  back,  groam.]  Oh,  the  fire  in  me  won't  go  out  I 
How  long  have  I  been  here  ? 

Sheelah  Ten  days  this  night. 

Danny  Ten  days  dis  night !  Have  I  been  all  that  time  out  of  my 

Sheelah  Iss,  Danny.  Ten  days  ago,  that  stormy  night,  ye  crawled 
in  at  that  dure,  wake  an'  like  a  ghost. 

Danny  I  remind  me  now. 

Sheelah  Ye  tould  me  that  ye'd  been  poachin'  salmon,  and  had 
been  shot  by  the  keepers. 

Danny  Who  said  I  hadn't  ? 

Sheelah  Divil  a  one  !  Why  did  ye  make  me  promise  not  to  say  a 
word  about  it  ?    Didn't  ye  refuse  even  to  see  a  doctor  itself? 

Danny  Has  any  one  axed  after  me  ? 

Sheelah  No  one  but  Mr.  Hardress. 

Danny  Heaven  bless  him  ! 

Sheelah  I  told  him  I  hadn't  seen  ye,  and  here  ye  are  this  day  groau- 
in'  when  there's  great  doin's  up  at  Castle  Chute.  To-morrow  the 
masther  will  be  married  to  Miss  Anne. 

Danny  Married  !  but — the — his — 

Sheelah  Poor  Eily,  ye  mane  ? 

Danny  Hide  the  candle  from  my  eyes— it's  painin'  me ;  shade  it 
off.    Go  on,  mother. 

Sheelah  The  poor  Colleen !  Oh,  no,  Danny,  T  knew  she'd  die  of 
the  love  that  was  chokin'  her.  He  didn't  know  how  tindher  she 
was  when  he  gave  her  the  hard  word.  What  was  that  message  the 
masther  sent  to  her,  that  he  wouldn't  let  me  hear  ?  It  was  cruel, 
Danny,  for  it  broke  her  heart  entirely  ;  she  went  away  that  night, 
and,  two  days  after,  a  cloak  was  found  floatin'  in  the  reeds,  under 
Brikeen  Bridge  ;  nobody  knew  it  but  me.  I  turned  away,  and  never 
said--.  The  creature  is  drowned,  Danny,  and  woe  to  them  as  dhruv 
her  to  it.  She  has  no  father,  no  mother  to  put  a  curse  on  him,  but 
the  Father  above  that  nivcr  spakes  till  the  last  day,  and  then — 
[She  turns  and  sees  Danny  gasping,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her,  supporting  himself 
on  his  arm.]     Danny!  Danny!  he's  dyin' — he's  dyin' ! 

[Runs  to  him,  R.  of  bed. 

Danny  Who  said  that  ?  Ye  lie !  I  never  killed  her — sure  he  seat 
me  the  glove  -where  is  it  ? 

Sheelah  He's  ravin'  again. 


Danny  The  glove— he  sent  it  to  me  full  of  blood.  Oh,  master, 
dear,  there's  your  token.  I  told  ye  I  would  clear  the  path  foreninst 

Sheddh  Danny,  what  d'ye  mane? 

Danny  I'll  tell  ye  how  I  did  it,  masthcr  ;  'twas  dis  way — but  don't 
smile  like  dat— don't,  sir  !  She  wouldn't  give  me  de  marriage  lines, 
BO  I  sunk  her  and  her  proofs  wid  her.  She's  gone !  she  came  up 
wonst,  but  I  put  her  down  agin.  Never  fear — she'll  never  throuble 
yer  again— never — never ! 

[Lies  down  ;  mutters.     Sheelah  on  her  knees ^  in  horror  and  prayer. 

Sheelah  'Twas  he !  he  ! — ray  own  son — he's  murdered  her,  and  he's 
dyin'  now — dyin,'  wid  blood  on  his  hands  !  Danny  !  Danny  I  spake 
to  me ! 

Danny  A  docther  !  will  they  let  me  die  like  a  baste,  and  never  a 
docther  ? 

Sheelah  I'll  run  for  one  that'll  cure  ye.  Oh,  weerasthrue,  Danny  ! 
Is  it  for  this  I've  loved  ye  ?  No,  forgive,  acushla,  it  isn't  your  own 
mother  that  'ud  add  to  yer  heart-breakin'  and  pain.  I'll  fetch  the 
docther.  avick.  [Mtisic^puis  on  cloak,  and  pulls  hood  over  her  head."] 
Oh,  hone  !  oh,  hone  ! 

\_Exit  SuEELAH,  L.  door  in  flat — a  pause — knock— pause — knock. 
Enter  Corrioan,  door  in  flat,  l.  c. 

Corrig  Sheelah  !  Sheelah  !  Noboily  here?  I'm  bothered  entirely. 
Tlie  cottage  on  Muckross  Head  is  empty — not  a  sowl  in  it  but  a  cat. 
Myles  has  disappearcxi,  and  Danny  gone— vanished,  bedad,  like  a  fog 
— Sheelah  is  the  only  one  reraainiug.  I  called  to  see  Miss  Chute  ;  I 
was  kicked  out.  I  sent  her  a  letter ;  it  was  returned  to  me,  un- 
opened. Her  lawyer  has  paid  off  the  mortgage,  and  taxed  my  bill  of 
costs— the  spalpeen !  [Danny  ^oan«.]  What's  that/  Some  one  is 
asleep  there.     'Tis  Danny  ! 

Danny  A  docther  ! — gi'  me  a  docther ! 

Corrig  Danny  here — concealed,  too  !  Oh,  there's  something  going 
on  tiiat's  worth  peepin'  into.  Whist!  there's  footsteps  comin'.  If 
I  could  hide  a  bit.  I'm  a  magistrate,  an'  I  ought  to  know  what's 
goin'  on — here's  a  turf-hole,  wid  a  windy  in  it. 

[Exit  Corrig  AN,  opening  inflate  e,  0. 

Enter  Sheelah  and  Father  Tom,  l.  c.  door. 

Sheelah  [Goes  to  Danny.]  Danny ! 

Danny  Is  that  you,  mother  ? 

Sheelah  I've  brought  the  docther,  asthore.  [Danny  looks  up. 

Danny  The  priest ! 

Sheelah  [On  her  knees,  n.  of  bed.]  Oh,  my  darlin'!  don't  be  angry 
wid  me,  but  dis  is  the  docther  you  want  ;  it  isn't  in  your  body  where 
the  hurt  is  ;  the  wound  is  in  your  poor  sowl — there's  all  the  harrum. 

Father  T  Danny,  my  son — [SitsL.  of  bed.]— it's  sore-hearted  I  am  to 
see  you  down  this  way. 

Sheelah  And  so  good  a  sc/n  he  was  to  his  ould  mother. 

Danny  Don't  say  that — don't !  [Covering  his  face. 

Sheelah  I  will  say  it— my  blessin'  on  ye — see  that,  now,  he's  cryin'. 

Father  T  Danny,  the  hand  of  death  is  on  ye.  Will  ye  lave  your 
Bins  behind  ye  here  below,  or  will  ye  take  them  withye  above,  to 
show  them  on  ye  ?  Is  there  anything  ye  can  do  that'll  mend  a 
wrong  ?  leave  that  legacy  to  your  friend,  and  he'll  do  it.    Do  ye 


want  ps-don  of  any  one  down  here  ?  tell  me,  avick ;  I'll  get  it  for  ye 
and  send  it  after  you — may  be  ye' 11  want  it. 
Danny  [Rising  up  on  arm.]  I  killed  Eily  O'Connor. 
Slieelah    [Covers  her  face  with  her  hands.]  Oh  !  oh  ! 
Father  T  What  harrum  had  ye  agin  the  poor  Colleen  Bawn  ? 

[Cohrigan  lakes  notes. 
Danny  She  stud  in  his  way,  and  he  had  my  heart  and  sowl  in  his 

Father  T  Hardress  ? 

Danny  Hisself !  I  said  I'd  do  it  for  him,  if  he'd  give  me  the  token. 
^  Father  T  Did  Hardress  employ  you  to  kill  the  girl  ? 

Danny  He  sent  me  the  glove  ;  that  was  to  be  the  token  that  I  was 
to  put  her  away,  and  I  did — I— in  the  Pool  a  Dliiol.     She  would  not 
gi'  me  the  marriage  lines  ;  I  threw  her  in  and  then  I  was  kilt. 
Father  T  Killed  !  by  whose  hand  ? 
Danny  I  don't  know,  unless  it  was  the  hand  of  heaven. 
Father  T  [Rising ,  goes  down — aside.]  Myles  na  Coppaleen  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  ;  his  whisky-still  is  in  that  cave,  and  he  has  not  been 
seen  for  ten  days  past.    [Aloiid—goes  to  Danny.]    Danny,  after  ye  fell, 
how  did  ye  get  home  ? 

Danny  I  fell  in  the  wather ;  the  current  carried  me  to  a  rock  ;  how 
long  I  was  there  half  drowned  I  don't  know,  but  on  wakin'  I  found 
my  boat  lioatin'  close  by,  an'  it  was  still  dark  ;  I  got  in  and  crawled 

Father  T  [Aside^  I'll  go  and  see  Myles — there's  more  in  this  than 
has  come  out. 

Sheelah  Won't  yer  riverince  say  a  word  of  comfort  to -the  poor  boy? 
He's  in  great  pain  entirely. 

Father  T  Keep  him  quiet,  Sheelah.  [Mime]  I'll  be  back  again 
with  the  comfort  for  him.  Danny,  your  time  is  short ;  make  the 
most  of  it.  [Aside.]  I'm  off  to  Myles  na  Coppaleen.  Oh,  Hardress 
Cregan — [Going  up] — ^ye  little  think  what  a  bri  lal  day  ye' 11  have  ! 

[Exit  door  in  flat.  l.  c. 
Carrig  [Who  has  been  ivriting  in  note-book,  comes  out  at  back.]  I've  got 
down  every  word  of  the  confession.     Now,  Hardress  Cregan,  there 
will  be  guests  at  your  weddin'  to-night  ye  little  dhrame  of. 

[ExitJi.  door  in  flat,  l.  c. 
Danny   [Rising  up.]    Mother,  mother !  the  pain  is  on  me.     Wather 
— quick — wather  ! 

[Sheeelah  ruTis  to  l.  table;  takes  Jug  ;  gives  it  ^o  Danny  ;  he  drinks;  Shee- 
lah takes  jug  ;  Danny  struggles— falls  back  on  bed;  close  on  picture. 

SCENE  ll.~Chamber  in  Castle  Chute.     [1st  Grooves.] 
Enter  Kyrle  Daly  and  Servant,  r. 
Kyrle  Inform  Mrs.  Cregan  that  I  am  waiting  upon  her. 
Enter  Mrs.  Cregan,  l. 

Mrs.  C  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Kyrle.  [Exit  Servant,  l. 

Kyrle  [r.  c]  You  sent  for  me,  Mrs.  Cregan.  My  ship  sails  from 
Liverpool  to-morrow.  I  never  thought  I  could  be  so  anxious  to  quit 
my  native  land. 

Mrs.  C  I  want  you  to  see  Hardress.   For  ten  days  past  he  shuns  the 


society  of  his  bride.  By  night  he  creeps  out  alone  in  his  boat  on  the 
lake — by  day  he  wanders  round  the  neighborhood,  pale  as  death.  He 
is  heart-broken. 

Kyrle  Has  ye  asked  to  see  me  ? 

Mrs.  C  Yesterday  he  asked  wliere  you  were. 

Kyrle  Did  he  forget  that  I  left  your  house  when  Miss  Chute,  with- 
out a  word  of  explanation,  behaved  so  unkindly  to  me? 

Mrs.  C  She  is  not  the  same  girl  since  she  accepted  Hardress.  She 
quarrels — weeps — complains,  and  hiis  lost  her  spirits. 

Kyrle  She  feels  the  neglect  of  Hardress. 

Anne  [Without,  r.]  Don't  answer  me  !  Obey,  and  hold  your  tongue! 

Mrs,  C  Do  you  hear  ?  she  is  ratin?  one  c#f  tlie  servants. 

Anne  [WithoiU.']  No  words— I'll  have  no  sulky  looks,  neither. 

Enter  Ajjne,  b.,  dressed  as  a  bride,  with  a  vail  and  wreath  in  her  hand. 

Anne  Is  ihat  the  vail  and  wreath  I  ordered  ?  How  dare  you  tell 
me  that  ?  [Throws  it  off,  e. 

Mrs.  C  Anne !  [Anne  tees  Kyrle — stands  corf  wed. 

Kyrle  You  are  surprised  to  see  me  in  your  house.  Miss  Chute  ? 

Anne  You  are  welcome,  sir. 

Kyrle  [Aside."]  She  l(x>ks  pale !   She's  not  happy— that's  gratifying. 

Anne  [Aside.]  He  doesn't  look  well — that's  some  comfort. 

Mrs.  C  I'll  try  to  find  Hardress.  [Exit  Mrs.  Greg  an,  l. 

Kyrle  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  intrude— that  is — 1  came  to  see 
Mrs.  Cregau. 

Anne  [Sliarply.]  I  don't  flatter  myself  you  wished  to  see  me  ;  why 
ehould  you  ? 

Kyrle  Anne,  I  am  sorry  I  offended  you  ;  I  don't  know  what  I  did, 
but  no  matter. 

Anne  Not  the  slightest. 

Kyrle  I  released  your  neighborhood  of  my  presence. 

Anne  Yes,  and  you  released  the  neighborhood  of  the  presence  of 
somebody  else — she  and  you  disappeared  together. 

Kyrle  She ! 

Anne  Never  mind. 

Kyrle  But  I  do  mind.  I  love  Hardress  Cregan  as  a  brother,  and  I 
hope  the  time  may  come,  Anne,  when  I  can  love  you  as  a  sister. 

Anne  Do  yowl    I  don't. 

Kyrle  I  don't  want  the  dislike  of  my  friend's  wife  to  part  my  friend 
and  me. 

Anne  Why  should  it?    I'm  nobody. 

Kyrle  If  you  were  my  wife,  and  asked  me  to  hate  any  one,  I'd  do 
it — I  couldn't  help  it. 

Anne  I  believed  words  like  that  once  when  yon  spoke  them,  but  I 
have  been  taught  how  basely  you  am  deceive. 

Kijrle  Who  taught  you  ? 

Anne  Who? — your  wife. 

Kyrle  ]\Iy  what  ? 

Anne  Your  wife — the  girl  you  concealed  in  the  cottajre  on  Muck- 
rose  Head.  Stop,  now — don't  speak — save  a  falsehood,  however 
many  ye  may  have  to  sptire.     I  saw  the  girl — she  confessed. 

Kyrle  ConTessed  that  she  was  my  wife? 

Anne  Make  a  clean  breast  of  it  in  a  minute,  which  is  more  than  you 
could  do  with  a  sixteen-foot  wagon  and  a  team  of  ten,  in  a  week. 


Kyrle  Anne,  hear  me  ;  this  is  a  frightful  error — the  girl  will  not 
repeat  it. 

Anne  Bring  her  before  me  and  let  her  speak. 

Kyrle  How  do  I  know  where  she  is  ? 

Anne  Well,  bring  your  boatman  then,  who  told  me  the  same. 

Kyrle  I  tell  you  it  is  false  ;  I  never  saw — never  knew  the  girl. 

Anne  You  did  not?  {Shoica  Eily's  lelter.'\  Do  you  know  that? 
You  dropped  it,  and  I  found  it. 

Kyrle  [Takes  letter.']  This  !  [Reads. 

Enter  Hardress,  l. 

Anne  Hardress  !  [Turns  aside. 

Kyrle  Oh  !  [Suddenly  struch  with  the  trv/h  ;  glances  towards  Anne  ;  find- 
ing her  looking  away,  places  letter  to  Hardress.]  Do  you  know  that  ? — 
you  dropped  it. 

Hard  [Conceals letter.]  Eh?  Oh! 

Kyrle  'Twas  he.  [Looks  from  one  to  the  other.]  She  thinks  me  guilty  ; 
but  if  I  stir  to  exculpate  myself,  he  is  in  for  it. 

Hard  You  look  distressed,  Kyrle.     Anne,  what  is  the  matter  ? 

Kyrle  Nothing,  Hardress.  I  was  about  to  ask  Miss  Chute  to  for- 
get a  subject  which  was  painful  to  her,  and  to  beg  of  her  never  to 
mention  it  again — not  even  to  you,  Hardress. 

Bard  I  am  sure  she  will  deny  you  nothing. 

Anne  I  will  forget,  sir.  [Aside.]  But  I  will  never  forgive  him — 

Kyrle  [Aside.]  She  loves  me  still,  and  he  loves  another,  and  I  am 
the  most  miserable  dog  that  ever  was  kicked.  [Crosses  to  l.]  Har- 
dress, a  word  with  you.  [Exeunt  Kyrle  and  Hardress,  l. 

An7iie  And  this  is  my  wedding  day.  There  goes  the  only  man  I 
ever  loved.  When  he's  here  near  by  me,  I  could  give  him  the 
worst  treatment  a  man  could  desire,  and  when  he  goes  away  he 
takes  the  heart  and  all  of  me  off  with  him,  and  I  feel  like 
an  unfurnished  house.  This  is  pretty  feelings  for  a  girl  to  have,  and 
she  in  her  regimentals.  Oh!  if  he  wasn't  married — but  he  is,  and 
he'd  have  married  me  as  well — the  malignant !  Oh  1  if  he  had,  how 
I'd  have  made  him  swing  for  it— it  would  have  afforded  me  the  hap- 
piest moment  of  my  life.  [Exit  Anne,  l.     3Iusic. 

SCENE  III. — Exterior  of  Myles' s  Bid,  door  u.  in  flat.  [2nd  grooves.] 
Enter  Father  Tom,  l. 

Father  T  Here's  Myle's  shanty.  I'm  nearly  killed  with  climbin*  the 
hill .  I  wonder  is  he  at  home  ?  -Yes,  the  door  is  locked  inside.  [Knocks.] 
Myles-  -Myles,  are  ye  at  home  ? 

Myles  [Outside,  r.  2  e.]  No — I'm  out. 

Enter  Myles,  r.  2  e. 

Irrah  !  is  it  yourself.  Father  Tom,  that's  in  it  ? 
Father  T  Let  us  go  inside,  Myles— I've  a  word  to  say  t'ye. 
Myles  I— I've  lost  the  key. 
Father  7^' Sure  it's  stickin'  inside. 

Uyle^  I  always  lock  the  dure  inside  and  lave  it  there  when  I  go 
c  t,  for  fear  on  losin'  it. 

^aiher  T  Myles,  come  hero  to  me.     It's  lyin'  ye  are.    Look  me  In 


the  face.    What's  come  to  ye  these  tin  days  past — three  times  Tve 
been  to  your  door  and  it  was  locked,  but  I  heard  ye  stirrin'  inside. 

Myles  It  was  the  pig,  yer  riverince. 

Father  T  Myles,  why  did  yer  shoot  Danny  Mann  ? 

Myk&  Oh,  murther,  who  tould  you  that  ? 

Fathn  T  Himself. 

Mylci  Oh,  Father  Tom  !  have  ye  seen  him  ? 

Father  T  I've  just  left  him. 

Myles  Is  it  down  there  ye' ve  been  ? 

Fatlier  T  Down  where  ? 

Myles  Below,  where  he's  gone  to— where  would  he  be,  afther  mur- 
thering  a  poor  crature  ? . 

Father  T  How  d'ye  know  that? 

Myles  How  !  how  did  I  ? — whist.  Father  Tom,  it  was  his  ghost. 

Father  T  He  is  not  dead,  but  dyin'  fast,  from  the  wound  ye  gave  him. 

Mfjles  1  never  knew  'twas  himself  'till  I  was  tould. 

Father  T  Who  tould  you? 

Myles  Is  it  who  ? 

FatJier  T  Who  ?  who? — not  Danny,  for  he  doesn't  know  who  killed 

Myles  Wait,  an*  I'll  tell  you.  It  was  nigh  twelve  that  night,  I 
was  comin'  home — I  know  the  time,  betoken  Murty  Dwycr  made  me 
step  in  his  shebeen,  bein'  the  wake  of  the  ould  Callaghan,  his  wife's 
uncle — and  a  dacent  man  he  was.    *'  Murty,"  sez  I — 

Father  T  Myles,  you're  desavin'  me. 

Myles  Is  it  afther  desavin'  yer  rivcrence  I'd  be? 

Fallxcr  T  I  see  the  lie  in  yer  mouth.  W  ho  tould  ye  it  was  Danny 
Mann  ye  killed  ? 

Myles  You  said  so  a  while  ago. 

Fithcr  T  Who  touM  ye  it  was  Danny  Mann  ? 

Myles  I'm  comin'  to  it.  While  I  was  at  Murty's,  yer  riverince,  as 
I  was  a-tellin'  you— Dan  Dayley  was  there— he  had  just  kim'd  in. 
**  Good  morrow,— good  day" — ses  he.  "  G9od  morrow,  good  Dan, 
ses  I," — jcjit  that  ways  entirely — "it's  an  opening  to  the  heart  to 
see  you."  Well,  yer  riverence,  as  I  ware  sayin',  — '•  long  life  on' 
good  wife  to  ye.  Masther  Dan,"  ses  I.  "  Thank  ye,  pes  he,  and  the 
likes  to  ye,  anyway."  The  moment  I  speck  thfm  words,  Dan  got 
heart,  an'  up  an'  tould  Murty  about  his  love  for  Murty' s  darter — 
the  Colleen  Hue,  The  moment  he  heard  that,  he  puts  elbows  in  him- 
self, an'  stood  lookln'  «t  him  out  on  the  flure.  '*  You  flog  Europe,  for 
boldness,"  ses  he — **  get  out  of  my  sight,"  ses  he, — ''this  moment," 
ses  he,—"  or  I'll  give  j-er  a  kick  that  will  rise  you  from  poverty  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  aflfluence,"  ses  he — "  away  out  'o  that,  you  no- 
torious delinquent ;  single  your  freedom,  and  double  your  distance," 
ses  he.  Well,  Dan  was  forced  to  cut  an'  run.  Poor  boy  !  I  was  sorry 
for  his  trouble ;  there  isn't  a  better  son  nor  brother  this  nlcment 
goin'  the  road  than  what  he  is — said — said — there  was'nt  better, 
an',  an' — oh  I  Father  Tom,  don't  ax  me  ;  I've  got  an  oath  on  my 
lips.     [Mmic.^  Don't  l)e  hard  on  a  poor  boy. 

FatUr  7^  I  lift  the  oath  from  ye.  Tell  "me,  avick,  oh  ^  tell  me. 
Did  ye  search  for  the  poor  thing — the  darlin'  soft-eyed  Colleen? 
Oh,  Myles  !  could  ye  lave  her  to  lie  in  the  cowld  lake  ail  alone  ? 

Enier  Eily  from  door  r.  flat. 


Myles  No,  I  couldn't. 

Father  T  [Turns — sees  Eily.]  Eily !  Is  it  yourself,  and  alive— an* 
not — not — Oh  !  Eily,  mavourneen.     Come  to  my  heart. 

[Embraces  Eily. 

Myles  [Crosses  to  l.]  D'ye  think  ye'd  see  me  alive  if  she  wasn't? 
I  thought  ye  knew  me  hetter — it's  at  the  bottom  of  the  Pool  a  Dhiol 
I'd  be  this  minute  if  she  wasn't  to  the  fore. 

Father  T  [c]  Speak  to  me — let  me  hear  your  voice. 

Eily  Oh,  father,  father  !  won't  ye  take  me  far,  far  away  from  this 
place  ? 

Father  T  Why  did  ye  hide  yourself  this  way  ? 

Eily  For  fear  Ae'c?  see  me. 

Father  T  Hardress  ?  You  knew  then  that  he  instigated  Danny  to 
get  rid  of  ye  ? 

Eily  Why  didn't  I  die — why  am  I  alive  now  for  him  to  hate  me  ? 

Father  T  D'ye  know  that  in  a  few  hours  he  is  going  to  marry 
another  ? 

Eily  I  know  it.    Myles  tould  me— that's  why  I'm  hiding  myself. 

Father  T  What  does  she  mean  ? 

Myles  [l.]     She  loves  him  still — that's  what  she  manes. 

Father  T  Love  the  wretch  who  sought  your  life  ! 

Eily  Isn't  it  his  own ?  It  isn't  his  fault  if  his  love  couldn't  last  as 
long  as  mine.  I  was  a  poor,  mane  creature — not  up  to  him  any 
way;  but  if  he'd  only  said,  "Eily,  put  the  grave  between  us  and 
make  me  happy,"  sure  I'd  lain  down,  wid  a  big  heart,  ia  the  loch. 

Father  T  And  you  are  willing  to  pass  a  life  of  seclusion  that  he  may 
live  in  his  guilty  joy  ? 

Eily  If  I  was  alive  wouldn't  I  be  a  shame  to  him  an'  a  ruin — ain't 
I  in  his  way  ?  Heaven  help  me — why  would  I  trouble  him  ?  Oh  ! 
he  was  in  great  pain  o'  mind  entirely  when  he  let  them  put  a  hand 
on  me — the  poor  darlin'. 

Father  T  And  you  mean  to  let  him  believe  you  dead  ? 

Eily  Dead  an'  gone  :  then,  perhaps,  his  love  for  me  will  come  back, 
and  the  thought  of  his  poor,  foolish  little  Eily  that  worshiped  the 
ground  he  stood  on,  will  fill  his  heart  a  while. 

Father  T  And  where  will  you  go  ? 

£"27//  I  don't  know.    Anywhere.     What  matters? 

Myles  [Against  wing,  l.]     Love  makes  all  places  alike. 

Eily  I  am  alone  in  the  world  now. 

Father  T  The  villain — the  monster !  He  sent  her  to  heaven  be- 
cause he  wanted  her  there  to  blot  out  with  her  tears  the  record  of  his 
iniquity.  Eily,  ye  have  but  one  home,  and  that's  my  poor  house. 
You  are  not  alone  in  the  world — there's  one  beside  ye,  your  father, 
and  that's  myself. 

Myles  Two — bad  luck  to  me,  two.  I  am  her  mother ;  sure  I 
brought  her  into  the  world  a  second  time. 

Father  T  [Looldng,  r.]  Whisht !  look  down  there,  Myles— what's 
that  on  the  road  ? 

Mylei  [6Vo.«.ses  R.]  It's  the  sogers — a  company  of  red-coats.  What 
brings  the  army  out? — who's  that  wid  th«m  ?— it  is  ould  Corrigan, 
and  they  are  going  towards  Castle  Chute  There's  mischief  in  the 

Father  T  In  with  yon,  an'  keep  close  a  while  ;  I'll  go  down  to  the 
castle  and  see  what's  the  matter  [Qro'-se^  r. 


Eily  Promise  me  that  you'll  not  betray  me — that  none  but  your 
self  and  Myles  shall  ever  know  I'm  livia  ;  promise  me  that  before 
you  go. 

Father  T  I  do,  Eily  ;  I'll  never  breathe  a  word  of  it — it  is  as  sacred 
as  an  oath.  [Exit  l. — music. 

Eily  [Going  to  cottage.]  Shut  me  in,  Myles,  and  take  the  key  wid 
ye,  this  time.  [ExU  in  cottage,  ii.  c. 

Myles  {Locks  door.]  There  ye  are  like  a  pearl  in  an  oyster  ;  now 
I'll  go  to  my  bed  as  usual  on  the  mountain  above — the  bolster  is 
stuiffed  wid  rocks,  and  I'll  have  a  cloud  round  me  for  a  blanket. 

\^Exit  Mylbs,  e.  2  b. 

SCENE  IV.—0u^«<3k  of  Ow^CAttte.  \\st  grooves.] 
Enter  Corrigan  and  six  Soldiers,  r.  1  e. 

Corrig  Quietly,  boys ;  sthrew  yourselves  round  the  wood — some  of 
ye  at  the  gate  beyant — two  more  this  way — watch  the  windies  ;  if 
he's  there  to  escape  at  all,  he'll  jump  from  a  windy.  The  house  is 

Quadrille  music  under  stage. — Air^  **  77ie  Boulanger." 

Oh,  oh!  they're  dancin' — dancin'  and  merry-making,  while  the 
net  is  closin'  around  'em.  Now  Masther  Hardress  Cregan — I  was 
kicked  out,  was  I  ;  but  I'll  come  this  time  wid  a  call  that  ye' 11 
answer  wid  your  head  instead  of  your  foot.  My  letters  were  returned 
unopened  ;  but  here's  a  bit  of  writin'  that  ye'll  not  be  able  to  hand 
back  so  easy. 

Enter  Corporal,  r. 

Oorp  All  right,  sir. 

Corrig  Did  you  find  the  woman,  as  I  told  ye  ? 

Oorp  Here  she  is,  sir. 

Enter  Sheelah,  guarded  by  two  Soldiers,  r. 

SJieelah  [Crying.]  What's  this  ?  Why  am  I  thrated  this  way— what 
have  I  done  ? 

Cjrrig  You  are  wanted  a  while— it's  your  testimony  we  require^ 
Bring  her  this  way.    Follow  me !  [Exit,  l. 

SheelaJi  [Struggling.]  Let  me  go  back  to  my  boy.  Ah  !  good  luck 
t'ye.  don't  kape  me  from  my  poor  boy!  [Struggling.]  Oh!  you 
dirty  blackguards,  let  me  go — ^let  me  go  ! 

[Exit  Sheelah  and  Soldiers,  l. 

SCENE  Y,—BaU  Room  in  Castle  Chute.  Steps,  c.  ;  platform— balustrade 
on  top,  backed  by  mornilight  landscape— doors  r.  andi..\  table  L.  c;  writing 
maierials,  books. papers,  etc.,  on  it;  chairs;  chair  L.  2  E.,  chairs  r.  ;  cJianddiers 
lighted.  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  Wedding  Guests  dmovered,  Hyland 
Creagii,  Bertie  0' Moore,  Ducia,  Kathleen  Creagh,  Ada  Creagh, 
Patsie  0' Moore,  Bridesmaids  and  ^ts.wsT%  discovered. — Music  going 
on  under  stag}.  , 

Hyland  Ducie,  they  are  dancing  the  Boulanger,  and  they  can't  see 
the  figure  unles-s  you  lend  them  the  licfht  of  your  eyes. 
Kathleen  We  have  danced  enough  ;  it  is  nearly  seven  o'clock. 



Duck  Mr.  0' Moore  ;  when  is  the  ceremony  to  commence 

0' Moore  Ihe  execution  is  fixed  for  seven — here's  the  scaffold,  I 
presume.  [P&inis  tv  table. 

Hyland  Hardress  looks  like  a  criminal.  I've  seen  l)im  light  three 
duels,  and  he  never  showed  such   a  pale  face  as  he  exhibits  to-night. 

Ducia  He  looks  as  if  he  was  frightened  at  being  so  happy. 

Hyland  And  Kyrle  Daly  wears  as  gay  an  appearance. 
Enter  Kyrle  Daly  down  steps ^  c. 

Ducie  Hush !  here  he  is. 

Kyrle  That  need  not  stop  your  speech,  Hyland.  I  don't  hide  my 
love  for  Anne  Chute,  and  it  is  my  pride,  and  no  fault  of  mine  if  she 
has  found  a  better  man. 

Hyland  He  is  not  a  better  man. 

Kyrle  He  is — she  thinks  so— what  she  says  becomes  the  truth. 
Enter  Mrs.  Cregan,  l.  2  e. 

Mrs.  C  Who  says  the  days  of  chivalry  are  over  ?  Come,  gentlemen, 
the  bridesmaids  must  attend  the  bride.  The  guests  will  assemble  in 
the  hall. 

Enter  Servant,  r.  2  b.,  wUh  letter  and  card  on  salver. 

Serv  Mr.  Bertie  0'  Moore,  if  you  plase.'  A  gentlemen  below  asked 
me  to  hand  you  this  card. 

0' Moore  A  gentleman  !  what  can  he  want  ?  [Reads  card.]  Ah  !  in- 
deed ;  this  is  a  serious  matter,  and  excuses  the  intrusion. 

Hyland  What's  the  matter? 

0'  Moore  A  murder  has  been  committed. 

All  A.  murder  ? 

0'  Moore  The  perpetrator  of  the  deed  has  been  discovered,  and  the 
warrant  for  his  arrest  requires  my  signature. 

Hyland  Hang  the  rascal.  [Goes  up  with  DuoiB. 

0' Moore  A  magistrate,  like  a  doctor,  is  called  on  at  all  hours. 

Mrs.  (7  We  can  excuse  you  for  such  a  duty,  Mr.  0' Moore. 

0' Moore  [Crossing,  r.]  This  is  the  result  of  some  brawl  at  a  fjdr,  I 
suppose.    Is  Mr.  Corrigan  below  ? 

Mrs.  C.  [Starting.']  Corrigan? 

0' Moore  Show  me  to  him, 
[Exit  O'MooRE  and  Servant,  e.  2  e. — Guests  go  up  and  off,  l.  u.b. 

Mrs.  C  Corrigan  here !  What  brings  that  man  to  this  house  ? 

[Exit  Mrs.  Cregan,  r.  3  e. 
Enter  Hardress,  down  steps,  c.  from  r.-,  pale. 

Hardress  [Sits,  l.]  It  is  in  vain — I  can  not  repress  the  terror  with 
which  I  approach  these  nuptials — yet,  what  have  I  to  fear  ?  Oh ! 
my  heart  is  bursting  with  its  load  of  misery. 

Enter  Anne,  down  steps,  o.  from  e. 

Anne  Hardress !  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 

Hard  [Rising,  L.  O-l  I  will  tell  you — yes,  it  may  take  this  horrible 
oppression  from  my  heart.  At  one  time  I  thought  you  knew  my  se- 
cret :  I  was  mistaken.     The  girl  you  saw  at  Muckrcss  Head — . 

Anne  [r.  c]  Eily  0' Conner  ? 

Hard  Was  my  wife  ! 

Anne  Your  wife  ? 

Hard  Hush!  Maddened  with  the  miseries  this  ad  brought  upon  me, 
I  treated  her  with  cruelty — she  committed  suicide* 


Anne  Merciful  powers ! 

Hard.  She  wrote  to  me  bidding  me  farewell  forever,  and  the  next 
day  her  cloak  was  found  floating  in  the  lake.  [Anne  sinks  in  chair.'] 
Since  then  I  have  neither  slept  nor  waked — I  have  but  one  thought, 
one  feeling ;  my  love  for  her,  wild  and  maddened,  has  come  back 
upon  my  heart  like  a  vengeance. 

[Music — tumult  heardj  r. 

Anne  Heaven  defend  our  hearts,  what  is  that  ? 

^Enler  Mrs.  Crbgan,  deadly  pale,  r.  3  e. — LocJcs  door  behind  her. 

Mrs.  C  Hardress !  my  child  ! 

Hard  Mother ! 

Anne  Mother,  he  is  here.  Look  on  him — speak  to  him — do  not 
gasp  and  stare  on  your  son  in  that  horrid  way.  Oh,  mother  !  speak, 
or  you  will  break  my  heart. 

Mrs.  C  Fly— fly  !  [Hardress  going^  r.]  Not  that  way.  No — the 
doors  are  defended  !  there  is  a  soldier  placed  at  every  entrance  !  You 
— are  trapped  and  caught — what  shall  we  do  ? — the  window  in  mj 
chamber — come — come — quick — quick  ! 

Arme  Of  what  is  he  accused  ? 

Hard  Of  murder.    I  see  it  in  her  face.  [Xoise,  r. 

Mrs.  0  Hush  !  they  come  — begone !  Your  boat  is  below  that  win- 
dow. Don't  speak  !  when  oceans  are  between  you  and  danger — 
write  !    Till  then  not  a  word.  [Forcing  him  o/f,  r.  3  e. — noise,  r. 

Anne  Accused  of  murder  !  He  is  innocent ! 

Mrs.  C  Go  to  your  room  !  Go  quickly  to  your  room,  you  will  betray 
him — you  can't  command  your  features. 

Anne  Dear  mother,  I  will. 

Mrs.  C  Away,  I  say— you  will  drive  me  frantic,  girl.  My  brain  is 
stretched  to  cracking.    Ha !  [Ao!««,  r. 

Ajine  There  is  a  tumult  in  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  C  They  come  !  You  treiuble  !  Go — take  away  your  puny 
love  ;  hide  it  where  it  will  not  injure  him— leave  me  to  face  this  dan- 

Anne  He  is  not  guilty. 

Mrs.  C  What's  that  to  me,  woman?  I  am  his  mother— the  hunters 
are  after  my  blood !  Sit  there— look  away  from  this  door.  They 
come ! 

[Knocking  loudly — crash — door  R.  8  E.  opened— enter  Corporal  and  Sol- 
diers, who  cross  stage,  facing  up  to  charge — Gentlemen  with  drawn  swords 
on  steps,  0.  ;  Ladies  on  at  back — 0' Moore,  r.  3  b. — enter  Corriqan,  r. 
3  E. — Kyrle  on  steps,  c. 

Oorrig  Gentlemen,  put  up  your  swords  ;  the  house  is  surrounded  by 
a  military  force,  and  we  arc  here  in  the  king's  name. 

Anne  [r.]  Gentlemen,  come  on,  there  was  a  time  in  Ireland  when 
neither  king  nor  faction  could  call  on  Castle  Chute  without  a  bloody 

Guests  Clear  them  out ! 

Kyrle  [Interposing.']  Anne,  are  you  mad?  Put  up  your  swords — 
stand  back  there— 8i)eak — 0' Moore,  what  does  this  strange  outrage 

[Soldiers  fall  6ad;— Gentlemen  on  tLeps;  Kyrle  comes  forward. 


0*  Moore  Mrs.  Cregan,  a  fearful  charge  is  made  against  your  son  ;  I 
know— I  believe  he  is  innocent  ;  I  suggest,  then,  that  the  matter  be 
investigated  here  at  once,  amongst  his  friends,  so  that  this  scandal 
may  be  crushed  in  its  birth. 

Kyrle  Where  is  Hardress  ? 

(hrrig  Where  ? — why,  he's  escaping  while  we  are  jabbering  here. 
Search  the  house.  [Exit  two  Soldiers,  r.  3  e. 

Mr^t.  C  [l.]  Must  we  submit  to  this,  sir?  Will  you,  a  magistrate, 
permit — 

0' Moore  I  regret  Mrs.  Cregan,  but  as  a  form — 

Mrs.  C  Go  on,  sir  !  ^ 

(hrrig  [At  door,  L.  3  E.]  What  room  is  this  ?   'tis  locked — 

Mrs.  C  That  is  my  sleeping  chamber. 

Chrrig  My  duty  compels  me — 

Mrs.  C  [Throws  key  down  on  ground.]  Be  it  so,  sir. 

Corrig  [Picks  up  keg — unlocks  door.']  She  had  the  key— he's  there. 

[Exit  Corporal  and  two  Soldiers. 

Mrs.  C  He  has  escaped  by  this  time. 

0' Moore  [At-L.  table.]  I  hope  Miss  Chute  will  pardon  me  for  my 
share  in  this  transaction — believe  me,  I  regret — 

Anne  Don't  talk  to  me  of  your  regret,  while  you  are  doing  your 
worst.  It  is  hate,  not  justice,  that  brings  this  accusation  against 
Hardress,  and  this  disgrace  upon  me. 

Kgrle  Anne  ! 

Anne  Hold  your  tongue — his  life's  in  danger,  and  if  I  can't  love 
him,  I'll  fight  for  him,  and  that's  more  than  any  of  you  men  can  do. 
[To  0' Moore.]  Go  on  with  your  dirty  work.  You  have  done  the  w^orst 
now — you  have  dismayed  our  guests,  scattered  terror  amid  our  fes- 
tival, and  made  the  remembrance  of  this  night,  which  should  have 
been  a  happy  one,  a  thought  of  gloom  and  shame. 

Mrs.  C  Hark !    I  hear — I  hear  his  voice.     It  can  not  be. 

Re-enter  Corrigan,  l.  3  e. 

Corrig  The  prisoner  is  here  ! 

Mrs.  C  [c]  Ah,  [Utters  a  cry.]  is  he?  Dark  bloodhound,  have  you 
found  him  ?  May  the  tongue  that  tells  me  so  be  withered  from  the 
roots,  and  the  eye  that  first  detected  him  be  darkened  in  its  socket  I 

Kyrle  Oh,  madam  !    for  heaven's  sake ! 

Anne  Mother  !    mother  ! 

Mrs.  C  What !  shall  it  be  for  nothing  he  has  stung  the  mother's 
heart,  and  set  her  brain  on  fire  ? 

Enter  Hardress,  handcuffed,  and  two  Soldiers,  l.  3  e 

I  tell  you  that  my  tongue  may  hold  its  peace,  but  there  is  not  a  vein 
in. all  my  frame  but  curses  him.  [Tarns — sees  Hardress  ;  falls  on  his 
breast.]  My  boy  !    my  boy  ! 

Hard  [l.]  Mother,  I  entreat  you  to  be  calm.  [Crosses  to  c]  Kyrle, 
there  arc  my  hands,  do  you  think  there  is  blood  upon  them  ? 

[Kyrle  seizes  his  hand— GestJjEMeu  press  round  him,  take  his  hand,  and 
retire  up. 

Hard  I  thank  you,  gentlemen  ;  your  hands  acquit  me.  Mother, 
be  calm — sit  there.  [Points  to  chair,  l. 

Anne  Come  here,  Hardress  ;  your  place  is  here  by  me. 

Sard  [r.  c]  Now,  sir,  I  am  ready. 


Corrig  [l.  of  iahle.']  I  will  lay  before  you,  sir,  the  deposition  upon 
"which  the  warrant  issues  against  the  prisoner.  Here  is  the  confession 
of  Daniel  or  Danny  Mann,  a  person  in  the  service  of  the  accused, 
taken  on  his  death-bed — in  articulo  mortis,  you'll  observe. 

0' Moore  But  not  witnessed. 

Chrrig  [Calling.]  Bring  in  that  woman. 

Enter  Sheelah  and  two  Soldiers,  r.  3  e. 

tf  I  have  witnesses.    Your  worship  will  find  the  form  of  the  law  in  per- 

I  feet  shape. 

^     0'  Moore  Read  the  confession,  sir. 

Corrig  [Reads.l  "The  deponent  being  on  his  death-bed,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Sheelah  Mann  and  Thomas  O'Brien,  parish  priest  of  Kinmare, 
deposed  and  said" — 

Enter  Father  Tom,  e.  3 

Oh,  you  are  come  in  time,  sir. 

Father  T  I  hope  I  am. 

Corrig  We  may  have  to  call  your  evidence. 

FaOier  ^  [c]   I  have  brought  it  with  me. 

Conrig  '-Deposed  and  said,  that  he,  deponent,  killed  Eily  O'Connor ; 
that  said  Eily  was  the  wife  of  HardressCregan,  and  stood  in  the  way 
of  his  marriage  with  Miss  Anne  Chute  ;  deponent  offered  to  put  away 
the  girl,  and  his  master  employed  him  to  do  so. 

0'  Moore  Sheelah,  did  Danny  confess  this  crime  ? 

Sheelah  [l.  c]  Divil  a  word — it's  a  lie  from  end  to  end  ;  that  ould 
thief  was  niver  in  my  cabin — he  invented  the  whole  of  it— sure  you're 
the  divil's  own  parverter  of  the  truth. 

Corrig  Am  I  ?  Oh,  oh  !  Father  Tom  will  scarcely  say  as  much?  [7b 
him.']  Did  Danny  Mann  confess  this  in  your  presence  t 

Father  T  I  decline  to  answer  that  question  ! 

Corng  Aha !  you  must — the  law  will  compel  you  ! 

Father  T  I'd  like  to  see  the  law  that  can  unseal  the  lips  of  the  priest, 
and  make  him  reveal  the  secrets  of  heaven. 

Anne  So  much  for  your  two  witnesses.  Ladies,  stand  close.  Gentle- 
men, give  us  room  here. 

[Bridesmaids  down^  e.     Exxi  Father  Tom,  r.  3  e. 

Corrig  We  have  abundant  proot,  your  worship — enough  to  hang  a 
whole  country.  Danny  isn't  dead  yet.  Deponent  agreed  with  Cre- 
gan  that  if  the  deed  was  to  be  done,  that  he,  Cregan,  should  give  his 
glove  as  a  token. 

Mrs.  C  Ah ! 

Hard  Hold !  I  confess  that  what  he  has  read  is  true.  Danny  did 
make  the  offer,  and  I  repelled  his  horrible  proposition. 

Corrig  Aha  !  but  you  gave  him  the  glove. 

Hard  Never,  by  my  immortal  soul — never ! 

Mr9.  C  {Advancing.]  But  /— /  did  !  [Movement  of  surprise.]  I  your 
wretched  mother — I  gave  it  to  him— I  am  guilty !  thank  heaven  for 
that !  remove  those  bonds  from  his  hands  and  put  them  here  on  mine. 

Hard  'Tis  false,  motiier,  you  did  not  know  his  purpose- you  could 
not  know  it.  [Corporal  takes  off  Jiandaifs. 

Mrs.  C  I  will  not  say  anything  that  takes  the  welcome  guilt  from 
off  me. 


Eiiier  Mtles  from  steps,  c.  frcmi  r. 

Mi/le.s  Won't  ye,  ma* am?   Well,  if  ye  won't ,  I  will. 

All  Myles ! 

^Myles  Save  all  here.  Ifyouplaze,  I'd  like  to  say  a  word;  there's 
been  a  murder  done,  and  I  done  it. 

Alt  You ! 

Myles  Myself.  Danny  was  killed  by  my  hand.  [To  Corrig.]  Were 
yez  any  way  nigh  that  time  ? 

Corrig  [Quickly.']  No. 

Myles  [Quickly.]  That's  lucky  ;  then  takedown  what  I'm  sayin'.  I 
shot  the  poor  boy — but  widout  manin'  to  hurt  him.  It's  lucky  I 
killed  him  that  time,  for  it's  lifted  a  mighty  sin  off  the  sowlof  the 

0' Moore  What  does  he  mean  ? 

Myles  I  mane,  that  if  you  found  one  witness  to  Eily  O'Connor's 
death,  I  found  another  that  knows  a  yttle  more  about  it,  and  here 
she  is. 

Enter  Eily  and  Father  Tom  down  steps,  c.  from  e. 

All  Eily ! 

Myles  The  Colleen  Bawn  herself ! 

Eily  Hardress!  | 

Hard  My  wife — my  own  Eily.  j" 

Eily  Here,  darlin' ,  take  the  paper,  and  tear  it  if  you  like. 

[Offers  him  the  certificate. 

Hard  Eily,  I  could  not  live  without  you. 

Mrs.  C  If  ever  he  blamed  you,  it  was  my  foolish  pride  spoke  in  his 
hard  words — he  loves  you  with  all  his  heart.     Forgive  me,  EUy. 

Eily  Forgive!  % 

Mrs.  C  Forgive  your  mother,  Eily. 

Eily  [Embracing  her.]  Mother ! 
[Mrs.   Cregan,  Hardress,  Eily,  Father  Tom,  group  together — Ankb, 

Kyrle,  and  GentLemen — Ladies  together — their  backs  to  Corrigan — 

CoRRiGAN  takes  bag,  puts  in  papers,  looks  about,  puts  on  hat,  buttons  coat, 

slinks  up  stage,  runs  up  stairs,  and  off  r. — Myles  points  off  after  him — 

several  Gentlemen  run  after  Corrigan. 

Anne  But  what's  to  become  of  me  ?  is  all  my  emotion  to  be  sum- 
moned for  nothing  ?  Is  my  wedding  dress  to  go  to  waste,  and  here's 
all  my  blushes  ready  ?    I  must  have  a  husband. 

Hyland  and  Gmtlemen  Take  me. 

0' Moore  Take  me. 

Anne  Don't  all  speak  at  once  !    Where's  Mr.  Daly? 

Kyrle  [r.]  Here  I  am,  Anne  ! 

Anne  [r.  c]  Kyrle,  come  here !  You  said  you  loved  me,  and  I 
think  you  do. 

Kyrle  Oh ! 

Anne  Behave  yourself  now.    If  you'll'ask  me,  I'll  have  you. 

Kyrle   [Embracing  Anne.]  Anne !  [Shouts  outside,  l.  u.  b. 

^/Z  What's  that? 

Myles  [Looking  off  out  at  back.]  Don't  be  uneasy !  it's  only  the  boys 
outside  that's  caught  ould  Corrigan  thryin'  to  get  off,  and  they've 
got  him  in  the  horse -pond. 

Kyrle  They'll  drown  him. 


Myles  Niver  fear,  he  wasn't  bom  to  be  drowned — he  won't  sink — 
he'll  rise  out  of  the  world,  and  divil  a  fut  nearer  heaven  he'll  get 
than  the  top  o'  the  callows. 

Eily  [7b  Hard.]  And  ye  won't  be  ashamed  of  me? 

Anne  I'll  be  ashamed  ot  him  if  he  does. 

Eily  And  when  I  spake — no — speak — 

Anne  Spake  is  the  right  sound.    Kyrie  Daly,  pronounce  that  word. 

Kyrle  That's  right ;  if  you  ever  spake  it  any  other  way  I'll  divorce 
ye — mind  that. 

Father  T  Eily,  darlin',  in  the  middle  of  your  joy,  sure  you  would 
not  forget  one  who  never  forsook  you  in  your  sorrow. 

Eily  Oh,  Father  Tom  I 

Father  T  Oh,  it's  not  myself  I  mane. 

Anne  No,  it's  that;  marauder  there,  that  lent  me  his  top  coat  in  the 
thunder  storm.  [Pointing  to  Myles. 

MyUs  Bedad,  ma'am,  your  beauty  left  a  linin'  m  it  that  has  kept 
me  warm  ever  since. 

Eily  Myles,  you  saved  my  life — it  belongs  to  you.  There's  my 
hand — what  will  you  do  with  it  ? 

Myles  [Takes  her  hand  and  Habdress's.]  Take  her,  wid  all  my  heart. 
I  may  say  that,  for  ye  can't  take  her  without.  I  am  like  the  boy 
who  had  a  penny  to  put  in  the  poor-box— I'd  rather  keep  it  for  my- 
self. It's  a  shamrock  itself  ye  have  got,  sir  ;  and  like  that  flower 
she'll  come  up  every  year  fresh  and  green  forcninst  ye.  When  ye  cease 
to  love  her  may  dyin'  become  ye,  and  when  ye  do  die,  lave  yer  money 
to  the  poor,  your  widdy  to  me,  and  we'll  both  forgive  ye. 

[Joins  hands. 

Eily  I'm  only  a  poor  simple  girl,  and  it's  frightened  I  am  to  be 
surrounded  by  so  many — 

Ayine  Friends,  Eily,  friends. 

Eily  Oh,  if  I  could  think  so— if  I  could  hope  that  I  had  established 
myself  in  a  little  comer  of  their  hearts,  there  wouldn't  be  a  happier 
girl  alive  than  The  Colleen  Bawn. 

Soldiers.  Soldiers. 

Guests.  Guests. 

0* Moore.  Shxelah. 
Kyslx.  AifioE.   Mtlss.    Hardrsss.  Eily.  Father  Tom.    Mrs.  Ckbqam* 

THE    END. 

Beautiful  Woman. 

"  The  world  was  sad— the  garden  was  a  wild  ; 

"  And  Man  the  Hermit  sighed,  till  Woman  smiled." 

Who  would  not  be  Beautiful?  Those  who  are  beantifal  by  nature,  can  make 
themselves  more  bewitching  with 

Hagan's  Magnolia  Balm. 

Those  who  are  not  thus  gifted  can  add  gi'eatly  to  their  attractions  by  its  use. 

Madame  de  Stael  said  she  would  gladly  give  up  the  power  conferred  by 
her  intellectual  position,  if  she  could  thereby  purchase  beauty.  Throughout 
all  time  Man  has  done  homage  to  Beauty,  and  bestowed  upon  Beautiful  Woman 
his  life's  devotion  and  adoration. 

Nature  has  not  been  so  lavish  of  her  gifts  in  this  direction,  as  some  of  the 
fiftir  Daughters  of  Eve  may  desire.  Many  la<;k  the  first  great  essential  of  loveli- 
ness, a   Fi-esii  and  Blooming  Coiiiplexion. 

Without  it,  all  other  beauties  are  marred  ;  with  it,  the  plainest  featm-es  soften 
into  refinement  and  glow  with  loveliness.  Hagan's  Magnolia  Balm  produces  this 
effect  and  gives  to  the  Complexion  the 


If  you  wish  to  get  rid  of  Redness,  Blotclies,  Pimples,  etc.,  you  should 

use  this  delightful  article. 

It  is  what  Actresses,  Opera  Singers  and  Ladies  of  fashions  use  to  create  that 
distingue  appearance  so  much  admired  by  every  one. 

By  its  use  the  roughest  skin  is  made  to  rival  the  pure  radiant  texture  of 
YoutliCul  Beauty. 

Hagan's  Magnolia  Balm  overcomes  the  flushed  appearance  caused  by  heat, 
fatigue  and  excitement,  makes  the  eye  look  clear,  full  and  bright,  and 
imparts  a  genial,  lively  expression  to  the  countenance,  indicating  intellectual 
power  and  natural  grace. 

Ladies  exposed  to  the  summer  sun,  or  spring  winds,  causing  Tan,  :$»uiibu]'n 
i  ami  Freeltlejff,  will  find  this  Balm  of  great  value,  as  it  removes  these  defects 
!  by  a  few  applicatione.    In  fact  this  article  iethe  great  Secret  of  Beauty;  no 
Lady  who  values  a  YoutUful  appearance  can  do  without  it. 

It  makes  a   Liady  of  Thirty  appear  but  T^venty;  and  so  natural, 
;  gradual  and  perfect  are  its  effects,  that  no  person  can  detect  its  application. 
j      The  Magnolia  Balm  transfoims  the  Rustic  Country  Girl  into  a  City  Belle,  more 
rapidly  than  any  other  one  thing. 

Applied  to  the  \eck,  Anns  and  Handx,  it  imparts  an  appearance  of 
graceful  rotundity  and  enguging  plumpness,  as  well  as  a  pearly 
bloom i  ng  purity,  which  is  ever  the  admiration  of  the  opposite  sex.  \STien 
used  upon  the  person  it  exhales  a  subdued  fragi-ance,  suggesting  pure  habits 
and  a  ciiltivated  taste. 

The  Magnolia   Balm  contains  nothing  in  the  least  injurious  to  the  skin. 

The  patronage  awarded  the  Magnolia  Balm  by  fashionable  ladies  of  New  York, 
Opera  Singers  and  Actresses,  and  its  i-apidly  growing  demand,  induces  us  to 
recommend  it  with  unbounded  confidence.  It  costs  but  75  CentM  per  bot- 
tle, and  is  sold  by  all  Druggists,  Perfumers  and  General  Stores.  Originally  pre- 
pared by  Wm.  E.  Haoan.  Troy,  N.  Y. 


63  Broadway,  New  York. 

Lyon's  Kathairon. 

For  Pi'«'t»erviii;;  atnd    Beautifying   ili«-   Hiiiiim,u  Haii*.     To  Pre- 
vent its  Falling  Out  and  Turning;  (iray. 

A  well  preserved  Head  of  Haii-,  iu  a  persou  of  middle  age,  at  ouce  bespeaks  re- 
flnement,  elegance,  health  and  beauty.  It  may  truly  be  called  Woman's  (.  runn- 
ing Glory,  while  men  are  not  insensible  to  its  advantages  and  charms.  I  ew 
things  are  more  disgusting  than  thin,  frizzly,  harsh,  untamed  Hair,  with  head 
and  coat  covered  with  Dandruff.  Visit  a  barber  and  you  feel  and  look  Uke  a 
new  man.  This  is  what  LYON'S  KATHAIRON  will  do  all  the  time. 
The  charm  which  Ues  in  weU  placed  Hair,  Glossy  Curls,  Lux\iriaut  Ti-esKes, 
and  a  Clean  Head,  is  noticeable  and  irresistible. 

The  Ladies,  (who  are  the  best  judges  of  what  pertains  to  beauty  and  adorn- 
inent,)  are  getting  to  understand  the  value  and  importance  of  a  fine  Head  of  Hair. 
Thus,  we  see  that  more  and  more  attention  is  paid  to  the  t  uitme,  Cirowth  and 
Preservation  of  the  Hair  by  both  sexes  Women  are  not  alone  in  the  desire 
to  improve  their  Tresses. 

Barber  shops  and  hair  dressing  saloons  multiply  in  number,  and  Ladies'  hair 
dressing  is  fast  becoming  a  fine  art. 

And  thus  the  demand  for  LYON'S  KATHAIRON  constantly  increases,  and 
every  day  adds  new  testimony  to  its  very  great  value. 

Do  you  ask  why?  For  the  following  reasons:  (More  could  be  given,  but  thsse 
ought  to  be  satisfactory  to  start  with. ; 

Because   it    increaKen   lite  Gro^vlh   and  Beauty  of  the 

Because  it  iti  a  Delif^htful  DrcHMiiig. 

Because  it  Krudicates  Oandriift". 

BecauM<^  it  Pr«v<*ntHtlie  Hair  front  Falllns  Out. 

Becauiie  it  Pr4*veiitK  tlie  Hair  from  Turnlns  Gray. 

Becau»ie    it  Keep^   tlie    Heaci   Cool  and    itealH  Pi  in  plea. 

Because  it  ^ives  the   Hair   a  rich,  soft,  ^loMsy  appearance. 

The  now  widely  celebrated  Kathairon,  was  fii-st  discovered  and  introduced  to 
the  pubUc  iu  1848,  by  Prof.  £.  Thomas  Lyon,  a  gratluate  of  Princeton  College, 
N.J.  The  Bame  is  derived  from  the  Greek,  "KafJiro,"  or  **Kathatro,"  signilying 
to  cleanse,  purify,  rejuvenate,  or  restore,  llie  favor  it  has  received  and  the 
popularity  it  has  obtained,  is  unprecedented  and  incredible.  It  was  found  to  be 
not  only  a  beautilul  Dressing  for  the  Hair,  but  to  ait  medicinally  upon  the  head 
in  cleansing  it  of  Scurf  and  Dandruff,  and  restoring  Hair  upon  Bald  Heads. 

Baldnets  is  an  American  peculiai'ity  so  often  witnessed,  that  many  candidly 
suppose  it  constitutional^  hereditary,  or  a  vatvral  exhaustion  of  the  powers  of 
nature.  It  is  frequently  caused  by  wearing  a  too  thick  covering  upon  the  Head  ; 
by  straining  the  Haii-  too  hard  in  parting,  and  by  neglecting  to  clean  the  Scalp 
from  Dandruff  and  other  impurities.  A  free  use  of  the  Kathaiion  will  entirely 
obviate  this  diflQculty,  as  its  cleansing  and  purifying  properties  immediately 
remove  all  these  impurities.  We  are  confident  in  saying  that  in  every  case  (except 
where  the  Hair  is  entirely  dead,  which  very  seldom  exists,"  a  continued  appUcation 
of  the  Kathairon  voill  restore  the  Hair  to  its  Jormer  JStrengt/t  and  Vigor. 

To  Prevent  the  Hair  from  coming  out,  US£  LYON*S  KA- 

It  is  a  most  delightful  Hair  Dressing. 

It  eradicatf^s  scurf  and  dandruff. 

It  keeps  the  bead  cool  and  clean. 

It  makes  the  hair  rich,  soft  and  glossy. 

It  prevents  hair  from  turning  gray  and  falling  off. 

It  restores  hair  upon  premature  bald  heads. 

The  above  is  just  what  Lyon's  Kathairon  will  do.  It  is  pretty— it  is  cheap- 
durable.  It  is  literally  sold  by  the  car-load,  and  yet  its  almost  incredible  demand 
is  daily  increasing,  until  there  is  hardly  a  country  store  that  uoes  not  keep  it,  or  a 
family  that  does  not  use  it.  All  Druggists  sell  it.    Price,  in  large  bottles,  50  cents. 

Lyon  Manufacturing  Co.,  New  York.